Expectations
by Lizabeth S. Tucker
Summary: Gibbs and Tony are attending a convention in the town owned by Tony's father. Sequel to "Winter Wonderland". GEN //Complete//
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Sequel to my story "Winter Wonderland", this is dedicated to those fans who asked to see more of the Teasdales as well as those who wanted a story about Tony's father. Be careful what you ask for! Naturally this was started before the strike was over and nothing in those episodes are reflected in this story._

**Expectations**

By Lizabeth S Tucker

1.

Officer Ziva David edged closer to the desk of Special Agent Timothy McGee, attempting to appear interested in the contents of a file open on his desk. In reality, she was covertly watching an unusually somber Anthony DiNozzo pecking half-heartedly at his computer keyboard. "McGee," she whispered. "I do not understand. Usually a trip to anywhere has Tony jumping around like a…like a…" She struggled to find the right simile.

"A Mexican jumping bean?" Tim offered.

Ziva frowned, momentarily distracted. "There are beans from Mexico that jump?"

"Actually I think they're seeds with worms or something inside that make them move around." Tim turned to watch their coworker. "I don't know what's wrong. Ever since Gibbs announced where the conference was being held, he's been overly quiet, almost depressed. It's really not like him. I'm kinda worried myself."

Ziva agreed. "He's just not Tony."

Before they could come up with a way to discover the reason behind Tony's unusual demeanor, Jethro Gibbs appeared, plane tickets in one hand and his suitcase in the other. "DiNozzo, pack it up. It's time to go. Taxi's on the way."

Tony's reply was too soft for the others to hear, but seemed to concern Gibbs.

"It's a big conference, one of many being held all over the country. Hell, the FATF's holding them in every major city on the east coast. We might never see him."

With a deep sigh, Tony shook his head as he got to his feet. "Trust me, boss, he'll be there. It's his city. Nothing goes on there without his knowledge or approval."

"Tell you what, if he does show, I'll pull my Sig and shoot him," Gibbs said, dropping his hand briefly on his senior agent's shoulder.

Grabbing his own suitcase from behind his desk, Tony grinned, although not with his usual megawatt voltage. "Don't tempt me, boss."

"C'mon, DiNozzo, hustle. We still have airport security to deal with."

As the two men walked into the elevator, Ziva and Tim could hear Tony begin his usual argument. "If we had our own plane, we wouldn't have to get to the airport so early."

"Not gonna happen, so you might as well give it up."

After the silver doors slid closed, Tim and Ziva resumed their work. The Israeli found she couldn't concentrate on the cold case she was reviewing. "Who was he talking about?"

"Who? Tony?"

"For Gibbs to offer to shoot this person, he must be very dangerous. But surely Tony could take care of it himself. He is really quite capable in that regard."

"Yeah, he is. I wonder…"

When he didn't continue, Ziva prodded. "What?"

"Abby might know who it is. She knows everything about almost everybody. Plus she and Tony are friends."

Ziva looked at McGee, then at the file on her desk. "I cannot concentrate until this mystery is solved. Let's visit Abby."

~NCIS~

"Abby? Abby!" McGee tapped the black-haired young woman on her shoulder, realizing that the headset she was wearing along with the volume of the music blaring in the lab that kept her from hearing their arrival. Unfortunately, he didn't move back fast enough or far enough to avoid Abby's reaction.

"Yeow!" Forensics expert Abby Sciuto jumped, simultaneously kicking her chair back, clipping McGee's hip before being abruptly stopped by the cord on her headset. She pulled them off, shooting a stern glare at her sometime boyfriend. "Geez, Timmy, give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry."

McGee and Ziva looked so intently at the Goth that she began patting the various buttons, snaps and zippers on her black and red overalls. "What? What's wrong?"

"We need your assistance, Abby."

"Well, sure, Ziva. What do you two need?"

"What do you know of Tony's enemies?"

"Huh?"

"We're not talking about the kind of people we were looking at when Chip framed him for murder," Tim explained. "We're thinking more of someone Tony wouldn't want to meet face-to-face, couldn't handle on his own."

"Is this a joke? I don't think there's anyone Tony couldn't handle if he put his mind to it. Heck, he's not even afraid of Gibbs when the bossman is on a rampage," Abby protested.

Ziva perched on the edge of Abby's desk. "It appears to be someone Gibbs knows about. He actually offered to kill this person if he appeared at the conference."

"He was just trying to make Tony feel better, Ziva. Gibbs didn't really mean it." McGee recalled the look on Gibbs' face when the promise was uttered. "At least I don't think he would really shoot a man simply because Tony didn't care to meet him."

"Conference? What conference?" Abby asked.

"Oh, that's right. You were testifying when the Director made the announcement. Certain team leaders and senior agents were being sent to money laundering conferences being held all over the country. The FAFT are sponsoring them."

"And they are?"

"The Financial Action Task Force. They've been around since 1989, but after 9/11, they really got going on cutting the money pipeline to terrorism."

"Where did Gibbs and Tony get sent? I hope it was somewhere warm with sunny beaches for Tony's sake," Abby said. "He's still getting chills since what happened last month."

"That's the truth. Ducky was worried he might develop pneumonia after the Teasdale kidnapping." McGee shuddered as he remembered the frantic run through the ice-laden snow that the senior agent had done with no shoes or jacket, fleeing armed kidnappers.

Abby nodded, her pigtails bouncing. "Even though he didn't get that sick, he still had a nasty cold for days. So where are they headed?"

"Riverview, Maine."

"Oh." Abby's bright smile suddenly dimmed, her shoulders drooping.

Ziva, shocked by the sudden change in demeanor, reached out to the other woman. "Abby, what is it? What's wrong?"

Tim knelt by Abby's chair, surprised when the young woman clutched his hand. "Abs? You're scaring us."

Abby gave Tim's hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "I'm okay. Really," she insisted when they appeared dubious. "It was just a shock. Now I understand."

"We still do not, Abby." Ziva pleaded. "Help us to."

"Riverview is where Tony's father lives."

"Tony's father?" Ziva frowned as she tried to recall details from Tony's dossier, compiled when the Mossad officer was first sent to NCIS. "He wasn't raised there, was he?"

"No, after his father shipped Tony off to boarding school, the elder DiNozzo sold the family mansion in Long Island as well as all of Tony's possessions. I think it was after his mother died. His father bought Riverview a few years later."

"You mean he bought a house in Riverview, right? Or a business?" Tim said.

"Nope, he bought the town. Lock, stock, and City government."

Ziva remembered some of Tony's history, little of it good. "He was disowned at the age of twelve, yes?"

"Yeah."

"But why? What did Tony do?"

"Tony didn't do anything wrong, Ziva! He was just a kid," Abby said fiercely, glaring at the Israeli.

"Abby, calm down. She's just trying to understand." Tim gently tried to soothe the irate young woman.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. It's just that this really burns me. Just because Tony wasn't living up to some arbitrary standards, his own father turned his back on him."

"It is all too common, Abby," Ziva commented, thinking of her own father and his demands on both herself and her half-brother.

"I know that Tony and his father had this weird relationship, but to be afraid of meeting him seems strange. I mean, I remember some of the things he'd let drop about his dad and mom…"

"Father and mother," Abby corrected softly.

"What?"

"Haven't you ever noticed, Tim? Tony always calls them mother and father, never dad and mom or pops and ma, just mother and father." Abby sniffed sympathetically. As the daughter of a loving family, she couldn't imagine the immense loneliness tony must have experienced as a child. "Tony's never actually said anything, at least to me, but I think there may have been some sort of abuse over the years, emotional if not always physical."

"How do you know?" Tim asked, shocked by the idea.

"Just something he said after Kate's funeral, about wanting to be cremated so he wouldn't be locked away in the dark again, this time forever. He was pretty drunk at the time, but bossman and I both caught the same thing from his slurred ramblings."

"Why? What could a child do that would call for that kind of punishment?"

Abby shrugged. "I don't know."

"Because, Tim, Tony didn't do what he was told, most likely," Ziva said, all too aware of the cruelties to be inflicted on an innocent child.

"You can't let Tony know I told you anything. He doesn't even know that I heard anything. Gibbs took him home right afterward and, I think, heard a lot more stuff." Abby grabbed her half-empty cup of Caf-Pow! and slurped at the straw.

"What makes you think that?" Tim asked.

"First because he didn't yell at Tony the next day, even though Tony had this wicked hangover. Instead he brought him aspirin and some hangover remedy concoction."

"And second?"

"Gibbs was beating the stuffing out of the punching bag in the gym."

"He usually does that when he works out," Ziva observed.

"Not like this, Ziva. It was as personal a beating as when he came in the night Kate was shot. He was angry and that punching bag was someone specific."

Tim's mouth dropped open. "I remember that! Tony was nervous around Gibbs for most of the morning. Something I've never seen before or since. He was acting really strange until Gibbs dragged him away. They were gone for quite a while. Once they came back, Tony had raw knuckles, but was in a much better mood."

"He took Tony to the gym?" Abby guessed.

Ziva nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. Gibbs let Tony take out his anger and shame on the punching bag, probably bare-fisted, hence the raw knuckles."

"Gibbs is with Tony?" Abby asked as she grabbed Bert the stuffed hippopotamus from his spot on her filing cabinet, hugging him tightly enough to make him fart. She rested her chin on his soft gray furred head.

"Yes," Ziva replied. "Both men left for the airport just before we came down here to see you. You've explained much of what we saw and heard, Abby. Thank you. We were worried."

"Bossman will keep him safe," Abby avowed, punctuating it with a very long and loud fart from Bert.

Tim glanced at his watch, his green eyes widening. "Ziva! We've got to go, that report has to go out before noon." He waved at Abby as he tried to rush the Israeli out of the lab. "Thanks, Abs."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Halfway through the first panel, Tony began to relax. So far there had been no sign of Frank DiNozzo. Tony hoped this meant that his father had sent one of his minions to the conference rather than coming himself.

With that potential problem pushed to the back of his mind, Tony could now enjoy the Leroy Jethro Gibbs Show. Currently his boss was trying to convince a pompous businessman that finagling the books of a company was not only a violation in the eyes of the Internal Revenue Service and the banking industry, but that the hidden money would not be used for the benefit of the community. Unless that community consisted of drug dealers, illegal gambling operations, or terrorists.

"Everything's about terrorism for you people," the man snapped in disgust.

"Not everything," Gibbs replied. "But, yes, the various federal agencies are concerned about terrorism in regards to the flow of hidden money."

"Those freaking Arabs are too busy killing each other to come back here again."

"You're either incredibly naïve or just plain stupid if you believe that!" Gibbs said sharply.

Tony winced, shaking his head.

"Why do you assume that all terrorists are Arab? Or even foreigners? Remember Oklahoma City? McVeigh was a terrorist, by any definition of the term, a white Christian American with no tie to any foreign terrorist organization or group."

There were murmurs throughout the audience as they considered Gibbs' statement.

"Terrorists can be anyone who uses force or threats to intimidate or cause fear to obtain their objectives. Homegrown terrorists are, without question, the hardest to find."

The representative from the FBI nodded his head in agreement. "Special Agent Gibbs is correct. They are the hardest to find and, in some cases, harder to convict."

"Why is that, Agent Mendez?" asked a young woman who appeared to be with a group of business realtors.

"They look, act, and have beliefs just like you. You want an example? Consider one of the most controversial decisions of the Supreme Court, Roe vs. Wade. If you don't believe the Court was right, you might sympathize with the abortion clinic protestors. If you picket legally outside a clinic, you might understand why someone would trash a doctor's office or his car, even though it's illegal. After all, it's just a case of vandalism against individuals who violate the sanctity of life by performing abortions. No one gets hurt."

The FBI agent looked around the room, noting which individuals were frowning and which ones were nodding in agreement. "But there are those who don't believe that all life is sacred, that find it not only reasonable but necessary to maim and kill to protect the unborn. These individuals, these criminals, these terrorists hope that by instilling fear, they can achieve their objective to stop legal abortions and put the clinics and doctors out of business, in some cases permanently. And with that mindset of the end justifying the means, they don't care how many innocents might die in the pursuit of their goal."

Gibbs spoke. "Ireland, Iraq, Israel, Palestine, Western Europe, South Africa, America, the list is endless. The reason for conflict may be religion or color, ethnicity or lifestyle, morality or status. No matter the cause, the result is the same. People die."

Agent Mendez stared out at the room. "You have the right to peacefully protest. You do not have the right to break the law."

"Or to fund those whose only aim is to kill anyone who disagrees with them," concluded Gibbs.

The moderator, a ranking member of the Financial Action Task Force, sponsor of the countrywide conferences, called for a twenty minute break.

Gibbs returned to the table where his senior agent sat, holding a pitcher of water in one hand and an empty glass in the other.

"Need something to drink, boss?"

"I need coffee, good coffee," Gibbs growled. "And unless you want to be wearing that water, you'd better put it down."

"I'm proud of you. Your hand only twitched a couple of times toward your weapon." Taking pity on Gibbs, Tony revealed the presence of a Starbucks just around the corner from the hotel.

The older man glowered at DiNozzo. "And exactly how long have you known this important piece of Intel?"

"Recently, boss. Honest." Tony flashed his most innocent smile, serving to increase Gibbs' suspicions.

Gibbs popped Tony on the back of his head as he stalked off in pursuit of the life-giving elixir, leaving Tony covering the spot with his hand and grinning.

"Well, Anthony, I see nothing much has changed. You still require discipline."

Tony froze at the smooth tones coming from behind him. He slowly turned to face the stocky man who was coldly surveying him. "Hello, Father. I didn't think you'd be here."

"You mean you hoped I wouldn't be."

Taking a deep breath, Tony nodded. "Yeah, you might say that. Guess you wanted to pick up a few new ideas on where and how to hide your money."

"Careful, Anthony. You may be my son…"

"A fact you remember only when it's convenient," Tony commented as he clenched his teeth.

Frank DiNozzo ignored the interruption. "…but that doesn't entitle you to any special favors."

"Favors? The only favor you ever did for me, Father, was shipping me off to boarding school where I learned that not every family was as screwed up as mine." Tony watched as his father's beefy hand rose to strike him, unable to move out of range as he was thrown back to his childhood.

"Tony!" Thomas Teasdale suddenly appeared, stepping between Tony and his irate father. "I didn't realize you'd be here."

Tony was startled as well as embarrassed that Teasdale had observed the confrontation. He saw that his father managed to stop his hand just in time, avoiding hitting Teasdale in the back.

"How are you feeling? Have you recovered completely? I know how cold it was wearing weather appropriate clothes. I can't imagine how you survived without a bad case of pneumonia or frostbite." Teasdale's deep blue eyes were intently focused on Tony, his chatter giving the agent time to regain his equilibrium.

"I'm…I'm just fine, Tom. A little cold was the only lasting damage. Well, that and a fiercesome headache from the rock I managed to find under the snow." He carefully backed away, allowing Teasdale to move to one side, away from Frank DiNozzo. "How's my girl doing?"

"Missing you. Jen will be bringing the girls to town on Friday. If you're still here and don't mind being the center of girlish worship, we'll go out to eat."

"That'll be great." Tony heard his father clear his throat and reluctantly introduced the two men. "Tom, this is Francisco DiNozzo, my father. Father, this is Thomas Teasdale."

Frank bared his teeth in what passed for a smile, sticking his hand out. "I know who he is, Anthony. I've tried to contact you for a possible business deal for months now, Thomas. Your secretary apparently didn't pass on my calls."

Teasdale shook the older man's hand, no answering smile on his own handsome face. "I've heard of you, Mr. DiNozzo. And my secretary has always been diligent in passing along all messages."

Tony grinned. "Which one?"

Tom returned the grin. "Both. She might not have been much of a human being, but Annabelle Giles was one hell of a secretary."

"Gotta be good at something. She certainly wasn't that hot a criminal."

"Or she came up against the wrong victim with you. But whichever it was," Teasdale turned his attention back to an annoyed Frank DiNozzo, "rest assured that all messages are passed on to me, Mr. DiNozzo."

"Call me Frank. So how would you have ever met someone like my son?"

"Tony risked his life to save my daughters from kidnappers. You should be very proud of him." Teasdale clapped Tony on the back.

"Yes, of course. Glad he could be of service to you," Frank said, dismissing the importance of his son's actions. "Perhaps we can talk a little business during this week."

Teasdale shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just here for the conference, particularly since Teasdale Industries is considering some foreign investments. I want to know what to look out for."

Frank persevered. "I might be able to help with that. I have a lot of contacts in the European states."

"Yeah," Tony said, earning an unspoken promise of future retribution when he pushed his nose to one side. "He can also hook you up with some great offshore banks as well."

"Anthony, this is business, something you never had an interest in nor the talent for."

"I wouldn't say that. DiNozzo here is very sharp when it comes to spotting cooked books. Never could understand where he got that knowledge. Before now."

Tony grinned, feeling his tense muscles relaxing. "Hey, boss. Found the coffee, huh?"

Gibbs moved from behind his agent, coolly eyeing the elder DiNozzo before greeting Teasdale. "Tom, good to see you again."

"You, too, Jethro." Teasdale inhaled deeply, his eyes closing in pleasure. "That coffee definitely isn't from the hotel."

Gibbs snorted. "Not hardly. Tony found a Starbucks around the corner. Not my usual brand, but it beats the swill they serve here."

"Bilge water would beat the brew here."

"So, Mr. DiNozzo, are you here for the conference or to see your son?" Gibbs asked.

"And you are who?"

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Your son is my senior agent. You didn't answer my question."

"If it is any of your business, I thought the conference might be of use."

"Unlike your son," Tony muttered.

Frank's look was disdainful. "You've never been useful before. Why would I expect anything to change?"

Stung, Tony fought back. "Father, I'm not useless just because I wouldn't follow your plans for my life."

"You're nothing but a dreamer, Anthony. Dreamers are useless as I'm certain Thomas will agree."

"Dreamers are anything but useless, Mr. DiNozzo. They are the inventors who shape the future. They imagine what the world could be and make it happen," Teasdale gently corrected the older man. "What you consider a weakness, I find to be an asset. This particular dreamer, as you call him, had the ability to think outside the box, to find a way to hide my eldest daughter and keep her safe from both the kidnappers and the weather."

Teasdale smiled at Tony. "If I could lure him away from NCIS, I would hire Tony right this minute."

"As what? A glorified security guard?" Frank DiNozzo spat out.

"As vice-president of operations."

Frank spun on his heel, walking stiffly away.

"Man, he's pissed," Tony said. "I thought I was the only one who could get him that mad. Tom, I appreciate what you said."

"I meant it, Tony. You'd be a real asset to my company."

"Stop trying to poach my agent, Tom," Gibbs ordered. "Break's over. Time to go back into the conference room."

"Oh, joy. More opportunities to keep you from shooting somebody," Tony said, chuckling, relieved that for once his stomach wasn't tied up in knots after a go-round with his father.

"This I've got to see," Tom said, accompanying the two special agents as they returned to the panel.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The first meeting of the following morning had been surprisingly fruitful with the exchange of information between the various federal agents and the banking and investment community. As it ended, Tony and Gibbs were stopped by a tall, balding gentleman that had listened intently to the description of various laundering schemes.

"Excuse me," he said softly. "You're police officers with the Marines?"

"We're special agents with NCIS, Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Tony corrected. "We do investigations into criminal matters involving the Marine Corps and Navy. What can we help you with?"

"I may be overreacting, but my investment firm has been setting up accounts for certain individuals in Iraq who claim to be Marines. Hearing what you and the others were discussing on the panel made me suspicious and I wanted to talk to you about it."

"And you are?" Gibbs asked.

"George Cavendish, president of Armstead International Investments."

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs." Gibbs shook Cavendish's hand. "This is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"Mr. Cavendish, pleased to meet you," Tony said.

"Let's go to the lounge and talk. It will be essentially deserted this early in the day."

While Cavendish and Gibbs selected a secluded table in the back, Tony checked out the coffee simmering in the carafe. The smell was enough to tell him it wouldn't meet Gibbs' exacting taste buds. "Coffee run, boss?"

"Good idea, DiNozzo. Mr. Cavendish, would you like some decent coffee?"

"Uh, sure. Thank you. Two creams, no sugar."

"Got it." With a cheeky grin, Tony walked to the hotel's street entrance.

He enjoyed the stroll to the coffee shop, although he was glad he had worn warmer clothing. Winter was slowly giving way to spring, but there was still a chill in the air. Always sensitive to the cold, he was even more so since the kidnapping as well as his bout with the plague.

Inside Starbucks, Tony flirted with the barista as he waited for his order. He was aware that one particular customer was staring at him, but decided to ignore it. As he reached into his jacket for his wallet, it slipped back to reveal his pistol.

"Gun!" shouted the man as he rushed Tony, slamming him to the coffee shop floor.

"Hey," Tony protested. "What the hell – oof!"

His hair, a little longer than usual, was grabbed and used to bang his head against the tile floor, momentarily stunning the special agent. Two other bystanders joined in, raining blows on him as he lay pinned to the floor, hampered by his reluctance to hurt innocents.

"Okay, let's break it up. What's going on here, Malcolm?"

"Got this criminal before he could rob the place, Sheriff. He was pulling his gun out when I jumped him."

"I wasn't touching my weapon. I was reaching for my wallet." Tony tried to identify himself. "Look, I'm a federal – "

"Shut up, punk!"

Tony's declaration was cut off with a shot to the head and more weight on his back, making it difficult to breathe. As he began gasping, the unseen Sheriff spoke. "Malcolm, get off of him."

"He might try to take off," Malcolm protested.

"I think I can handle him. Get up."

Tony remained sprawled face down on the cold, dirty tile, both to give himself time to catch his breath as well as not inciting any further violent responses to any movement. He felt hands patting him down after removing his holstered SigSauer. Then his wrists were pulled to the small of his back and secured in handcuffs.

"Get up now. Slow and easy. No sudden moves. Get onto your knees first."

With difficulty, Tony managed to get up onto his feet. He could feel blood dribbling down his face while his knee was threatening to collapse under him after an anonymous kick.

The Sheriff was an older gentleman of great girth. His hair was sparsely spread over the top of his head, but made up for it with a thick white beard on his face. He helped Tony walk outside to a waiting police car. As Tony slowly lowered himself to the backseat, he spotted a familiar face watching from the window of Starbucks, sporting a smug smile.

"Now, son, what are you doing with this gun?" The sheriff leaned his palms on the roof of the car, staring down at Tony.

"I was trying to buy coffee for my boss when that yahoo jumped me. If anyone is interested, I'm allowed to carry that gun. In fact, Sheriff…Roberts," Tony said, reading the other man's name tag pinned to his chest. "I'm required to carry it as a federal law enforcement officer."

"You're a federal agent?" the sheriff exclaimed, darting a quick and betraying glance to the man still watching.

"Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, NCIS. My ID is in my inside jacket pocket. Guess my father forgot to mention that item when he set this up, huh?"

"Your…your father? I don't…" The sheriff stared in shock at the gold badge and accompanying identification card.

"I'm sure you know my father, Frank DiNozzo, the man who owns this town, who owns you."

"Now hold on just a minute…"

"Don't bother to deny it, Sheriff." Tony twisted his body around until his handcuffed wrists were displayed to the law enforcement officer. "I'd advise you to unlock these cuffs. The only reason that I'm willing to forget this happened is prior experience with my father's manipulative ways."

Swallowing noisily, the Sheriff quickly released Tony, handed him his identification, and then backed away from the car. He watched nervously as the younger man climbed slowly and carefully to his feet, running the heel of his hand over his face.

"I expect Malcolm to be informed not to jump me when I go back inside to pay for my coffee order."

"Of course. I'll come inside with you, make certain of it."

"Good idea."

The barista was watching wide-eyed as the two men came back into the shop. "Do you still want your coffees?"

"Yeah, I do," Tony replied, taking a paper napkin from the dispenser and, using the shiny metal as a mirror, blotted the blood from his face caused by a cut just under his hair.

"Sheriff? What's goin' on? Why's he free?"

"Malcolm, you overreacted a tad."

"Ya think?" Tony muttered, pulling his wallet out to pay his bill.

"He had a gun, Sheriff!"

"Malcolm, he's a federal cop, he's allowed to have a gun. You might want to think about that in the future."

"But I was told…" Malcolm searched the store uselessly.

"If you're looking for Frank DiNozzo's hatchet man, forget it. He's long gone." Tony put his change away, then drew his jacket back to reveal the empty holster. "My weapon, Sheriff?"

"Oh, right." Roberts handed the gun back, butt first.

Tony checked it, verified that it wasn't unloaded or otherwise tampered with, and then slid it back into the leather holster. He picked up the two coffee cups and hobbled out onto the street.

~NCIS~

"This definitely sounds like something we'd be interested in, Mr. Cavendish. I'll forward the information to the local NCIS office, give them your name and telephone number and a Special Agent will be in touch." Gibbs took the business card Cavendish provided, clipping it to his notes.

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs. I wasn't certain if I was imagining conspiracies or not."

Gibbs glanced at his watch, frowning. "Where is DiNozzo and our coffee?"

"Here, boss. Sorry for the delay," Tony said as he limped into the lounge. He handed one cup to Gibbs and set Cavendish's on the table.

"Agent DiNozzo, are you okay?"

"What the hell happened to you?" Gibbs barked.

"Ran into a little engineered trouble," Tony replied tersely, not wanting to explain further in front of their visitor.

"Sit down before you fall down," Gibbs ordered.

"Thanks, boss." Tony carefully sank into the well-cushioned chair with a grateful sigh.

"Mr. Cavendish, I think we're done here. Someone will call you in a day or two." The senior agent rose to his feet, shook the puzzled investment company president's hand, and escorted him from the lounge. On the way back to where Tony was slumped, his eyes closed and his head leaning against the cushion, Gibbs grabbed a towel and had the bartender soak it in warm water and wring it out.

"Here." He held the towel out. "You're a little bloody."

"Thanks." Tony groaned in pleasure as the warm, wet cotton soothed his battered face.

"You need a doctor?"

"No!" Tony snapped, then sighed. "Sorry, boss, but I've seen enough doctors to last me a lifetime."

"Yeah, I imagine you have. But with your propensity for finding trouble so easily, I think you'll be seeing a few more in the future."

"Maybe so, but not now." He dropped the towel over his face.

"Feeling better?" Gibbs asked once Tony finally reappeared from cover.

The younger man nodded, reaching across the table to snag Cavendish's untouched coffee. "Can you toss me a couple of sugars?"

Gibbs flung three white packets to his agent. "Ready to tell me what happened?"

Tony shrugged. "My father led a few people to believe I was an armed felon. Doing their civic duty, they took me down."

"Civilians, unarmed civilians managed to overpower an armed, trained federal agent?"

Tony bristled. "Hey, I couldn't just shoot 'em, boss. They just trusted the wrong person. And besides, one of them was a cop. Don't think that'd do much for interagency relations." He stirred the sugar into the milky white liquid.

"Go on."

Tony sketched in the particulars of the incident, including his father's associate's presence at the coffee shop.

"You didn't see him when you walked into the store?"

"Believe me, I'd have noticed him. We've met before. He was definitely watching when the Sheriff stuffed me in the back of his squad car."

"But once you went back inside he was gone?"

"Yep. Probably ducked out the back door."

"Why did he do it?"

"Two reasons. First, because my father told him to do it, because he can. Derek despises me, always has. Almost as much as my father does. I've never been what my father wanted from a son. I'm too rebellious, too independent, too needy. I'm not hard enough, not…"

"Tony!"

He halted his speech, breathing deeply. "Okay, okay. I got a little carried away."

Gibbs smiled faintly. "Just a little. You said you know this guy, Derek?"

"Yeah, Derek Terlizzi is my step-brother. Wife number three already had adult children when Father married her. It only lasted three years, but it was long enough for Derek to think he could be my father's heir."

"No chance?"

"Not one. Only a DiNozzo will run the company. Derek doesn't understand that. He's convinced that if he's as crooked and arrogant and underhanded, he can become the heir apparent."

"Who is the heir? Other than you?"

"Probably my cousin Larry, Lorenzo DiNozzo. Not that he really wants to be, but Larry is the closest relation with the right credentials, a business degree from an Ivy League school."

"You said two reasons. What's the second?"

"I embarrassed my father in front of a respected businessman. And I made him angry enough to strike me in public."

Gibbs didn't move or make a sound, but Tony could sense the man tense and quickly spoke. "He didn't actually hit me, Gibbs. Tom stepped between us before he could do it."

Gibbs didn't take his eyes off Tony for a long moment before he nodded. "Okay. For now. I gather Teasdale was the businessman in question?"

"Yeah. My father's been trying to get in contact with Tom for months from what I heard. Tom has been basically ignoring him."

"And he tried again in person while you were being your usual snarky self?"

Tony's grin was rueful. "I guess that might be an accurate description. Although I was also warning Tom of Father's dubious connections. Needless to say, he wasn't pleased."

"I think Frank DiNozzo and I need to have a talk."

"C'mon, Gibbs, it's okay. Don't mess with Frank. He's dangerous."

"And I'm not?"

"Well, sure you are, boss, in a direct, kinda scary way. But Frank DiNozzo is devious. He finds your weak spot and moves in for the kill, but never personally. He has a trusted flunky do the dirty deed. And if he can't get you one way, he'll find another."

"Sounds like some personal experience."

"Yeah, you could say that. Didn't you ever wonder why I didn't stay very long in Peoria and Philadelphia?"

"Your father?"

"In Peoria, it was pretty simple to screw things up for me. DiNozzo Industries owned two of the largest factories in the town. All he had to do was threaten to close them down, putting over 1200 people out of work. To keep them open, the town board had to force the police chief to get rid of me. They had no choice really. The chief apologized, but…" Tony shrugged.

Gibbs watched his agent's face, disturbed by the weary acceptance. "And Philadelphia?"

"He had to work a little harder there. With that department, he couldn't threaten the town's livelihood. Instead he targeted my supervisor. I didn't find out about it until it was almost too late."

"What did your father do?"

Tony gulped the lukewarm coffee. Grimacing, he pushed the cup to the side. "I was only a uniformed street cop for about six months in Philly before I was lucky enough to catch a couple of bank robbers who had killed the bank president's wife. Anyway, I got the gold shield and was assigned to Captain Jim Bradley's unit. I learned a lot from him about investigating. The thing is, his wife was really sick with some kind of muscular disease. It pretty much wrecked his savings because there were so many medical bills. My father found out and arranged for Jim to get some much needed loans to pay them off. Then he bought the loans from the banks and started putting pressure on Jim."

"For the payments?"

"Yeah. He demanded payment in full by the due date, would do all kinds of stuff to build pressure on them, just generally made Jim and his wife, June, put up with more and more annoyances."

"That must've been hard on them," Gibbs observed quietly.

"It was." Tony looked down at his clenched hands. "I truly believe the added stress led to Jim's heart attack."

"Bad?"

"Bad enough. June was almost hysterical when she called me. I was going through their bills and finances and realized what was going on. I took care of it." Tony rubbed his eyes.

Gibbs got up, went to the bar and returned with a shot of whiskey. "Drink this."

"What?" He blinked at the golden liquid sitting in the glass. "It's a little early, don't you think, Gibbs?"

"Close enough to noon not to matter. Go on, you need it."

With a crooked smile, Tony tossed the fiery alcohol down his throat. "Whoa, that's some good stuff."

"You said you took care of it. How?"

"I recognized the company name and contacted my father. We negotiated a settlement."

When Tony didn't seem inclined to elaborate, Gibbs pushed. "What kind of settlement, DiNozzo?"

"I just…I agreed to quit if Jim was given some breathing space on his bills. I still stay in touch with him so I'll know if my father reneges on his side. And Jim was to never know why I quit."

"You didn't tell Bradley?"

"Not a chance. Jim's kinda stubborn. If he had known, Jim would've refused to agree, probably would've headed to the old man's office and fought him. I couldn't let that happen, boss. Hell, his heart condition was so bad, he never returned to active duty. I wasn't gonna take the chance so I made up some story about wanting to move on. After my short stint in Peoria, it wasn't that big a leap to think that I got bored easily."

"You do get bored easily."

Tony's grin was more relaxed. "Yeah, I guess I do. After that, I moved to Baltimore. As far as I know, my father hadn't found a way to muck that up for me by the time you and I butted heads." He laughed. "Then you hijacked me for NCIS."

"Assault on a Federal officer is a crime, DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, returning to the subject of the attack.

"Understood, boss, but Malcolm is the one who actually committed the assault, not my father. You can't prove that Frank DiNozzo instigated the incident, much less that he knew what would happen. That's how he operates. He always protects himself, staying carefully shielded from any type of culpability."

"Not this time," Gibbs growled. "He made his first mistake by going after a member of my team. It'll be his last if I have anything to say about it."

"Aww, Gibbs, I didn't know you cared."

The older man reached over the table and popped Tony on the back of the head. "Idiot," he said fondly as a barely hidden smile teased at his lips.

Tony grinned. "It's part of my charm."

"Of course it is. Tony, he needs to learn that he's not untouchable, but it's up to you. He's your father."

Tony ran his hands over his face before staring around the room. A few other people were wandering into the lounge, drawn by the large screen television bolted to the wall. "I wasn't kidding when I said he's dangerous. It's one thing for me to yank the tiger's tail, but I'm not willing to put anyone else in the danger zone."

"The nature of our work always has the threat of danger."

"It's not the same. Sure, we could get shot in the line of duty. I accept that, we all accept that when we take the oath. But this is different. Piss off Francisco DiNozzo and he'll make it his mission to destroy you."

"He's not omnipotent, Tony."

The younger man shrugged. "He never loses. Ever. And on the rare occasion when it looks like he might lose, his opponent suddenly pulls out, a victim of threats or blackmail or…" He shrugged again. "I don't know what or how, but he always wins."

"It's not gonna happen. DiNozzo, do you trust me?"

"With my life, boss."

"Then trust me to find a way to teach your father a lesson he won't soon forget."

Green eyes searched blue, looking for doubts. Finally Tony nodded, his mouth dry. "Okay. Okay, we'll try it. But if he goes for anyone on the team…"

"Tony, don't look for trouble. With your track record, we'll find it soon enough." Gibbs got to his feet, taking his empty coffee cup to the bar. He tested the coffee provided there, made a face and strolled back. "C'mon, let's get to work."

Tony slowly stood up. "Work? You mean the conference?"

"No, I mean doing a detailed study of your father. What do you know about his business activities?"

Tony took a deep breath. "Let's take this conversation to our suite. You never know who might be listening."

~NCIS~

Once in their shared suite, two double beds with a sitting room, a small refrigerator, and a coffee maker. Tony was stripped to his boxers, wrapping an Ace bandage around his knee. "If this keeps up, I'm gonna buy stock in this company."

Gibbs chuckled as he set up their laptops. "Might be an idea."

Tony pulled his pants back on, tucking his shirt in before zipping up. "You asked about my father's business activities? I can't tell you much. Needless to say, I've kept as far out of that loop as possible."

"Give me a general overview of his usual operations."

Tony perched on the couch, pulling the table where the computers were placed closer to him. "He buys his way into various businesses, either through stock buys or loans, companies that are failing are favorites."

"He turns companies on the brink of disaster around?" Gibbs asked, sitting next to Tony.

"Depends. If he already owns or has a hefty piece of a rival company, my father would simply destroy the one he's bought."

"And the employees?"

"Gone. Fired." Tony grimaced. "Frank DiNozzo doesn't believe in helping displaced employees. His minions would pass out the pink slips and that would be that."

Gibbs nodded before taking out his cell phone. He called the NCIS office. "McGee? I want you to do a deep check on someone for me. Look for any hint of illegal activities." He put the call on speaker.

"Got it, boss. Who is it?"

Gibbs turned to Tony. "Last chance."

Swallowing deeply, Tony leaned closer to the cell phone. "Francisco 'Frank' DiNozzo."

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Probie, my father." Tony gave McGee the particulars regarding his father and hoped he wasn't making a mistake, one that would hurt any of his team members.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Gibbs read the information sent to his computer by McGee. "Tony, what do you know about your father's overseas investments?"

"Not much. At least, nothing concrete. I wasn't home much after the age of twelve. And when I was home, I mostly tried to stay out of his way." Tony blew out his breath. "Well, I've heard that he's been dropping a lot of cash lately in banking and investment companies that were once behind the Iron Curtain." Tony stretched out on his bed, a wet cloth covering his bloodshot eyes.

"For how long?"

"Um, officially he began right after the Wall fell."

"And unofficially?"

Tony sat up, letting the cloth fall into his waiting hand. "When I was young, about seven or eight, I remember lots of people who spoke Russian and wore badly cut clothing."

"How would you know what language it was?" Gibbs focused his bright blue eyes on his senior agent.

"One of the kitchen staff was a refugee from the Soviet Union. She taught me a few words. When she saw these people, she was terrified, convinced they were the KGB coming to drag her home and kill her."

"She told a kid all that?" Gibbs asked, incredulously.

"Nah, I was eavesdropping. I usually hung out in the kitchen for company."

Gibbs didn't know which was worse, the statement or the matter of fact manner in which it was said. "She believed they could do that to her?"

"She knew they could. Katrina was an illegal. Most of my father's servants were. It was a matter of cost and control with him. If they got too feisty, demanding to be treated as a regular employee in regards to pay and hours, he'd fire them. If they might seem to be the type to cause him trouble or knew too much, INS would get a call and they would be quickly deported."

Gibbs poured a fresh cup of coffee and stood across from the picture window, sipping it thoughtfully. "So it appears he was engaged in illegal activities even then."

Tony grimaced. "My father has always done whatever brings him the greatest profit. Legalities and morality have never been much of a consideration."

"And yet public opinion seems important to him from the news reports that I've been reading."

"Not the public at large, only his peers in the business world. He's convinced that they all conduct business the same way."

Gibbs returned to sit on the bed. "Hence his anger over how you embarrassed him in front of Tom Teasdale."

"Oh, yeah. And that scene at Starbucks was his way of punishing me."

"It's time he was taught a lesson of his own."

They both resumed their research at their respective laptops.

~NCIS~

Tony nibbled at the remains of his cheesecake, picking up the crumbs with his finger. "That wasn't too bad a lunch for room service."

Gibbs snorted. "At twenty bucks, it should be perfect."

"So what has McGee found?"

"Some interesting hints of ties with the Russian mob, longstanding ties."

"Anything resembling proof? Because the old man is very slippery."

"If it was easy to find, your father would've been out of your life years earlier."

The younger man huffed. "If that had only been true." He moved closer, looking over Gibbs' shoulder at the computer screen. "Wait! Go back. Yeah…no, one more. That's it!" Tony pulled the laptop to face him.

"What do you see?"

"I'm not sure yet, boss." Tony looked at Gibbs. "Why don't you go downstairs to the conference for a while? Let me check this out."

Gibbs smiled faintly. In some ways the dark-haired agent was like a bloodhound. Once he found a trail, he followed it until the end, wherever that might be. "Okay. Call if you find anything concrete."

"Hmmm, 'kay," Tony murmured, not even hearing Gibbs let himself out. He began scribbling notes, and then reached for the phone, dialing a number from his police past.

~NCIS~

"Gibbs!" The agent turned around to discover Tom Teasdale hurrying to his side.

"How's Tony? I heard about his injuries from Cavendish."

"Good. He's got his nose in the computer right now."

"A case?" Teasdale asked. "If you can talk about it."

"Something a little more personal," Gibbs replied, not planning on expanding on that statement. "How's the conference going?"

"Some good contacts are being made and, I think, some really good information is being shared. I know that there are a few areas that I'm going to give a closer look to when I decide on my overseas investments."

"Have a particular country or countries in mind?"

"Not yet. Needless to say, I'm taking it slow and easy. As I'm sure you know, there are some very bad people over there."

"So I've heard."

The two men walked to the main conference room, their conversation turning to the subject of Frank DiNozzo. "Tom, what can you tell me about Tony's father?"

Teasdale made a slight gesture with his right hand. "Enough to know this isn't his typical venue. And it certainly appeared to me that he wasn't surprised to see Tony, despite how he tried to make it seem."

"Is that so? You think he knew Tony would be here?"

"That's my take. I saw the man's face. He knew. But why the pretense?"

Gibbs frowned, a muscle flicking angrily at his jaw. "Just one more question to be answered. Makes anything you can tell me even more important."

"Let's find a quiet corner and talk."

~NCIS~

Tony heard the knock on the hotel room door and grinned. "What's the matter, Gibbs, can't figure out the key card?" he asked as he crossed the room to open the door. His smile slipped quickly from his face when he saw his father standing there, accompanied by his two bodyguards.

"Anthony."

"Father," Tony acknowledged the older man wearily. "What do you want?"

The elder DiNozzo shot him a withering glance. "To talk. Can't a father speak with his son?"

Tony's blue eyes narrowed speculatively. "A normal father and son, sure."

"Do you wish to conduct your business in public?"

Tony moved to allow his father access, but held his hand up as the bodyguards started to follow. "Nope. You two have to stay out in the hallway."

Frank waved them back. "Keep watch here."

Tony closed the door in their faces, then quickly strode across the room to close the laptops, turning the notes upside down on the table.

"Secrets, Anthony?"

"Business. I'm sure you understand that." Tony sat gingerly on the edge of the edge of the couch, waiting for the reason for the visit. Once he would have nervously chattered, giving his father an opening through which to attack. But his years as a police officer, detective, and more importantly as a special agent working with Gibbs had taught him how to accept the silence, to use it. Tony still filled silence with talk, but in a manner intended to annoy and elicit information.

Frank DiNozzo appeared puzzled at the lack of reaction. He wandered about the hotel room, fingering the NCIS jacket flung over a straight-back chair in the room.

"You wanted to talk, Father, so talk." Tony waved at the table containing the laptops. "I have work to do."

Frank's mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. "You think you're safe from me, don't you, Anthony?"

Tony touched the bruising on his face. "I'd never make that mistake, Father. Believe me." His tone became chilly. "But I also know that I'm no longer your victim and I won't let you make me one again. You drove my mother into escaping with pills and booze, spiraling into psychosis and finally suicide."

"Your mother was weak," the older man said.

His son nodded complacently. "Yes, she was. But if you had cared at all for her, you could've gotten her help."

Frank dismissed the subject matter as easily as he had dismissed the woman. "I could have you fired."

Tony's handsome face was reserved. "Really? Then why have you waited so long? You usually have my bags packed within two years. I've been with NCIS almost five years now."

"I had hoped you'd become bored with these ridiculous sailors and their petty crimes."

The words were typical, but the tone wasn't. Something was off. He quirked his eyebrow questioningly. "You tried. I'll be damned. You tried to get me fired and failed, didn't you?"

Tony found himself laughing, more so when he saw his father's angry face. "I know you didn't approach Gibbs."

"Really?"

"Yeah, 'cause if you had, I doubt if you'd be standing in front of me. So who'd you try to pressure?"

"Your director."

"Shepard? No, of course not. Morrow would've been the Director back then." Tony's initial amusement slowly turned into embarrassment. "What did you tell him? Damn it, why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I'd like to know that myself."

Tony's face flamed as he realized Gibbs had entered the room unseen. "Uh, boss. Thought you were enjoying the conference."

"I wasn't, but I got a call from McGee that needed your input. Imagine my surprise to see two armed gorillas standing outside our hotel room."

"They still breathing?" Tony asked, never doubting for a moment that Gibbs could take both men.

"One developed an uncomfortable cough, but he'll live. You okay?"

"Yeah."

Frank DiNozzo didn't like being ignored. "We're having a private conversation, Gibbs."

Tony's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open before an amused smile crept across his face. He watched with interest as his boss turned to glare at his father.

"If you want to have a 'private' conversation, I suggest doing it in your own room, not mine. And definitely not on my time."

"Your time? I don't understand what you mean."

"I'm his boss. His time belongs to me," Gibbs explained.

"Fine. When does Anthony's day end? We can meet then."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Tony muttered.

"His day ends when I decide it does. For the duration of this conference, he has no time off." Gibbs rudely turned his back on the older man. "McGee's waiting for your call."

"Got it, boss. I'll just show my father out."

"I'll take care of that."

Tony nodded, opening his cell phone to contact Tim McGee.

"Mr. DiNozzo, this way." Gibbs ushered Tony's father to the door. "I'm certain you've heard the phrase 'don't call us, we'll call you'?"

Frank drew his stocky figure stiffly upright. "You exceed your authority, Agent Gibbs."

"It's Special Agent. Do I?" Gibbs' smile was particularly shark-like. "Won't be the first time." The smile disappeared as he leaned closer to the other man. "If you try anything like that stunt at Starbucks again, you'll learn just how far I can 'exceed my authority'. Do we understand each other?"

"Oh, yes. You understand this, Special Agent Gibbs, I don't like to be threatened. If you value your job, you'll step away from my son and not interfere." Hatred blazed in Frank DiNozzo's eyes.

Crowding even closer, Gibbs glanced across the room at Tony before speaking softly. "I value your son, even if you don't. So don't try anything else to hurt him or I'll become your worst nightmare."

His face set, the elder DiNozzo walked stiffly through the door, Gibbs closing it firmly behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

"Tony! Tony!!" Girlish shrieks filled the hallway as the two children ran through the crowd of adults milling about.

Tony's grin flashed as he dropped to one knee, wincing slightly, his arms wide open wide. He was almost bowled over when both the Teasdale girls threw themselves against him.

"Girls, let Special Agent DiNozzo breathe."

"I've told you to call me Tony, Jennifer," the dark-haired man said, looking up at the young woman accompanying the girls.

"After all you did for us, it seems disrespectful somehow," Jennifer Slocum replied.

"Disrespectful suits DiNozzo."

"Now, Gibbs, that isn't very nice," Jennifer commented with a smile.

"Anyone will tell you that I'm not a very nice person," Gibbs said.

"I think you're very nice, Agent Gibbs." Clarissa left Tony's arms to go take hold of the older man's hand. "I think you're wonderful!"

Ignoring the inelegant snort from his lead agent, Gibbs smiled down at the six-year-old. "Thank you, Rissa."

"So, Jennifer, how's it going with you and Tom?" Tony asked as he got to his feet, his hand resting on Laurel's shoulder.

In reply, the Teasdale nanny held out her left hand, displaying a pink diamond ring. "What do you think?"

"An engagement ring? Congratulations! 'bout time you made him put up or shut up."

"This from a man who would run screaming if any of his women even whispered the word marriage."

"Boss, considering three exes, you might've done better to run yourself," Tony quipped, his green eyes twinkling.

"Jennifer is gonna be our stepmother," Clarissa announced, not understanding what the adults were discussing. "But not like in the stories, 'cause they're all meanies."

"And we all know that Jennifer could never be a meanie, huh?" Tony grabbed Clarissa and began tickling her before reaching for a laughing Laurel. "Not like ol' Gibbs here."

The look on Gibbs' face caught Jennifer's attention. "What's wrong? Is Tony okay? I noticed the bruising."

"He's been a little stressed this week. The girls will be good for him, take his mind off things."

"Is there anything Tom or I can do to help?" she asked softly.

"Not right now, but I appreciate the offer."

Lunch was at a McDonald's located a few blocks away. While Gibbs, Jennifer and Tom spoke over cups of hot coffee after the food was gone, Tony had shed his jacket and tie to join the Teasdale girls in the play area.

"He's really enjoying himself, isn't he?" Jennifer observed, smiling at the agent climbing into the huge netted cage filled with red plastic balls, his expensive Italian loafers placed carefully next to two pairs of Mary Janes.

Gibbs nodded, a smile playing at his lips. "It's an experience he probably never had as a child, I would imagine."

"Considering who his father is, the kind of man he is, that wouldn't surprise me." Tom pulled a folded paper from his inside jacket pocket, handing it to Gibbs. "I hope you don't mind the presumption, but I had one of my company's investigators pull some information about DiNozzo senior. Some of what was found was…disturbing."

Gibbs held Tom's gaze for a long moment before opening the file. He scanned the papers quickly before suddenly stopping to read one particular section over again, his teeth clenched painfully tight. "Where did you get this? It isn't on file anywhere."

"Not officially, no. However, there is still a notation in Tony's file with New York Child Protective Services. Since he's now an adult, it wasn't hard to access."

Jennifer looked from one man to another, sensing an undercurrent that disturbed her. "Tom?"

"I knew about the incident. I wasn't aware that someone had reported it. Nothing was done?"

"Not officially, as I said. He seems to have paid everyone off, or threatened them. The CPS caseworker, now retired, told my investigator that Frank DiNozzo did receive a warning from the police officer who originally responded to the call. If there were any other incidents, no amount of money or power would prevent the report being shared with the press."

"Would someone please tell me what happened?" Jennifer asked.

Tom looked to Gibbs for permission before speaking. "Tony was about six years old when he was discovered locked in a closet by a meter reader. Based on interviews with the staff as well as the terrified child, he was left there for almost two days."

"His father did that?" She was horrified by the idea. "What could a six year old do that was so bad?"

"Seems Tony embarrassed his father while the older man was entertaining an important potential partner for one of his investments," Gibbs explained. He watched his lead fall onto his back in the cage, red balls flying everywhere. Tony's grin was blinding as the two girls jumped in beside him.

"I don't understand."

"Tony had learned a new trick while in first grade and was practicing when his father and visitor walked in on him," Gibbs explained in more detail. "Belching on demand."

"Tony was locked in a closet for that?" Jennifer was incensed, ready to storm back to the hotel and accost Tony's father immediately. "That's reprehensible," Jennifer declared. "How could the very people charged with the protection of helpless children turn a blind eye to something like that?"

"Money." "Power." Gibbs and Tom spoke at the same time.

Jennifer huffed, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. "I know it's been years ago, but I'd still like to give That Man a piece of my mind."

Tom smiled fondly as he reached out to hug his fiancée. "Not everyone is as dedicated a child advocate as you are, my dear."

"I'd say Rissa and Laurel are very lucky in the choice of their new stepmother."

"Thank you, Jethro," Jennifer said, blushing.

A blast of cool air had the three adults turning to watch the giggling trio walk inside. Gibbs was pleased to see Tony relaxed, his expressive green eyes sparkling with delight.

"That was pretty cool," Tony declared as he collapsed onto the bench seat next to Gibbs. He reached for his drink cup, slurping the cold soda through the twistee straw the girls had insisted on buying him.

"Tony made a big wave," Laurel said, flinging her arms wide to show how big. She leaned back against her father while talking.

Rissa nodded her head vigorously. "It was HUGE!! Balls flew everywhere."

"Sounds like you all had fun," Tom said with a grin.

"I hate to break this up, be we need to get back to the hotel. You have a panel on money laundering." Gibbs stood, gathering his trash. He dumped it in the nearest receptacle as they strolled out of McDonald's.

"I don't suppose you'd like to take over for me, would ya, boss? I really think you'd be better at it than I would be."

"You'll be fine, DiNozzo."

~NCIS~

Despite Tony's concerns, his panel had been a rousing success. A serious Anthony DiNozzo was a force to be reckoned with. Gibbs leaned back against the far wall, watching his senior agent as he was surrounded by interested civilians with further questions. It took the younger man some time to finish with his audience.

"See, don't know what you were worrying about," Gibbs said as a smiling Tony joined him.

"Worry? I wasn't worried. I don't know what you're talking about." Tony quickly stepped back when Gibbs raised his hand. "Okay, I might've been a little bit…concerned."

"Hmphf." Gibbs turned on his heel and stalked off.

With a grin, Tony hurried to catch up with him. "Hey, where are we going?"

"Back to work."

This wiped the grin off of Tony's face. "Investigating my father."

Gibbs stopped short, Tony barely avoiding running into him. "Have you changed your mind about this?"

Tony ran his hand through his hair, the spikes scattering. "No. No, I haven't changed my mind." He made an effort to control himself. "You've got to understand, boss, I've spent most of my life frightened of my father. And for good reason."

"For someone who claims to be frightened of this monster, you certainly managed to do what you wanted with your life." Gibbs gently clapped his hand on his young friend's shoulder. "You've already defeated him. Now you just need to get him off your back permanently."

Tony stood for a moment, his head hanging down. Blowing out a breath, he peered up from under his thick eyelashes, a faint smile curving his lips. "Okay, boss, no more second thoughts. It's time to treat him like the criminal he is."

Gibbs felt compelled to speak. "Tony, he's also your father."

"No, he's a sperm donor, nothing more." Green eyes locked with blue. "You've been more of a father to me in the last few years than Frank DiNozzo was during my whole life."

Gibbs didn't know what to say. Luckily for him, Tony didn't seem to need a response. The younger agent resumed walking down the gold-carpeted hallway. At the elevator, he checked his appearance in the reflective door, tweaking his hair. Until a short-skirted maid sashayed by, pushing her cart and giving the handsome agent an impudent wink. He spun around to follow her with his eyes, a flirtatious grin on his face.

Gibbs shook his head, regarding Tony with an amused smile. "C'mon, Romeo, your coach awaits." He grabbed Tony's elbow and pulled him into the open elevator.

Once alone, Tony looked at Gibbs, serious again. "Our hands are tied if we don't do interviews, boss. Not to mention the fact that the people we need to talk to aren't exactly going to be cooperative."

"When are they ever?" Gibbs replied.

"Yeah, I've got that, but it's why face-to-face works best." At Gibbs' annoyed glare, Tony quickly added, "of course you already know that."

"When we're not scheduled for a seminar, we'll be out in the field."

"The Director's not gonna like this."

Gibbs shrugged. "Doubt she'll know." His blue eyes narrowed speculatively. "You planning on telling her?"

"Not a chance, boss." Tony snorted. "That works for this area, but Long Island is too far for a quick trip."

"I'll take care of that."

Tony opened his mouth to question him, but shut it when the elevator doors slid apart with a soft ding. He fell into step with the other man as they headed to the suite.

Once inside, Tony checked the suite for signs of intrusion, too acquainted with his father's methodology not to. Gibbs, seeing what Tony was doing, made a similar survey before he found it. He snapped his fingers, holding up a transmitter found under the coffee table.

Tony's face was marked with loathing. He reached for the bug, intending to crush it, but Gibbs pulled it out of reach, shaking his head.

"I'm going to sack out for a while, DiNozzo. If you want to watch TV, keep it low."

"Gotcha." Tony picked up the remote, turning the set on and increasing the volume until it could be heard throughout the suite.

Gibbs placed the bug next to the television speaker before heading to the bathroom. As soon as Tony slipped into the small room in response to Gibbs' hand motion, the door was gently closed.

"Why won't you let me destroy it?"

"We do that, we lose our advantage." Gibbs sat on the edge of the pristine white bathtub.

Looking around, Tony lowered himself onto the closed toilet seat cover, blinking as the light plastic gave a little under his weight. He inhaled deeply, then blew the breath out. "Okay, I get it. We use it to play with my father's head."

"To begin with. I want to see if we can tie the device to Frank. Take photos of it, particularly of any identifying marks, and send them to Abby. He's made a big mistake with this." A smug smile slipped across Gibbs' face. "He's trying to get leverage to force you out. You're not reacting like your father wants. He's getting frustrated."

"And people who get frustrated become careless. They make mistakes."

"Exactly. We're gonna get him, DiNozzo."

"If," Tony cautioned, holding his forefinger up, "we can tie it directly to him. I doubt if it will be that easy."

"It's a start. Get a camera and start snapping." Gibbs got to his feet, quietly slipping out of the bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

The few people connected to Frank DiNozzo who lived in Riverview and agreed to speak to Tony and Gibbs had little to say. The usual response was a closed door or a threat to call the police.

After the last attempt near his father's overly large monolith of a house, Tony trudged to their rental car, leaning back against the hood. "He owns the whole friggin' town."

"Not everyone in it," Gibbs replied. "Just the ones we need. We have to find someone who isn't happy with the status quo. Someone who sees more of what is going on than anyone realizes."

"Nosy neighbors." Tony slowly turned in a circle, surveying the neighborhood. Originally the lots were a quarter-acre for each two or three story house. Newer structures were now put on half- to full-acre lots, their builders gobbling up whole neighborhoods, changing the look of the area. He checked out the older houses one by one. His keen eyesight caught the flicker of curtains and smiled. He continued his search as he reported his find. "Got a watcher in the yellow house to the right."

"Good."

"I don't want whoever it is to suffer, Gibbs. We need to be careful not to single them out."

"Get a phone number. We'll arrange a safe meeting place."

Tony called Abby, chatting with her while she worked. She frequently reminded them that she was a fabulous multi-tasker. Soon Tony had the telephone number for the house, promising to call later for information about the bug. "The listing is for E. Francetti. Probably a woman since there's only an initial for the first name. Or it could be an unusual or weird name. How are you listed?"

Giving Tony his patented stare, Gibbs punched the number into his cell. "Hello, my name is Jethro Gibbs. I'm a special agent with NCIS, Naval Criminal Investigative Service." He shifted the phone to his other ear. "Yes, ma'am, I'm the man standing across the street. Yes, the other…stud is an agent as well."

Tony's grin was blinding. He was enjoying Gibbs' side of the conversation immensely, as well as the slight flush that appeared on his boss' cheeks.

"Miss…oh, Mrs. Francetti, I wondered if you'd be willing to answer a few questions? Well, we would like to speak to you in person, but the individual we're investigating is a very powerful and vindictive man. We don't want to bring you any trouble." Gibbs' eyebrows rose. "Yes, ma'am, I am talking about Frank DiNozzo. What? Yes, ma'am." He disconnected the phone.

"How did she know?"

"You've got me, but she insists on talking to us face to face. Now."

"Does she realize what he can do?"

"Seems like she doesn't care." Gibbs cocked his silvery head to one side in question.

Tony gave a tense nod of consent.

They both turned, falling into step as they walked to the Francetti house. By the time the two men reached the edge of the property, the front door opened. A tall woman appeared there, her hair catching the sun with a rich auburn. She had her arms crossed, waiting.

Tony nudged his boss, his good humor momentarily restored. "Watch out, boss, she's a redhead." She was also close to seventy years of age.

"Well, get in here," Mrs. Francetti ordered.

The men followed her inside. In the hallway, Gibbs stopped and inhaled deeply. The fragrant smell of freshly brewed coffee permeated the house.

"You're Gibbs." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, ma'am. This is Special Agent Anthony…"

"DiNozzo," she interrupted. "You've got your mother's eyes."

Startled, Tony looked closely at the older woman, his emerald eyes narrowing. Something clicked in his mind. "Miss Ellie?"

"It's about time. And you call yourself an investigator." She yelped as Tony swung her into the circle of his arms, kissing her enthusiastically on both cheeks.

Gibbs watched with mild surprise. Once the two broke apart, although Tony had left his arm around the woman's waist, he spoke. "Obviously you know each other. Wanna explain?"

"Before the boy gets into that, would you like some coffee?"

"Does a bear love honey?" Tony quipped.

It wasn't long before they were all seated in the living room. Gibbs leaned back on the couch, sipping the hot liquid with a contented sigh. "Good brew."

"Translated, that means it's strong enough to eat through solid metal."

"DiNozzo."

"Anthony."

"Oh, great. Stereo," Tony complained, his grin giving him away.

"Explain, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered. "Why didn't you recognize her name? Your mind is like a steel trap for minutiae."

"I prefer to think of myself as somewhat important, Agent Gibbs." Perched on a chair next to where Tony was sitting, Mrs. Francetti held her own cup of coffee.

Tony chuckled. "When I knew Miss Ellie, she was Eleanor Simpson, not Francetti."

"I was married to Carlo over ten years ago. We had eight wonderful years together before he died of a massive heart attack. I believe that it was brought on by the actions of your father." She leaned forward to pat Tony's hand. "I'm sorry, my boy. I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect you from him."

"Miss Ellie, you did the best you could."

"I'm still waiting," Gibbs grumbled.

"You're rather impatient, aren't you?"

"At times."

"So am I. The short version is that I was the librarian outside the village where Tony grew up."

"The Hamptons?"

"Yes, although I didn't live there. I actually resided in Shirley."

"You were more than just the librarian, Miss Ellie." Tony stretched his long legs casually before him. "You were my refuge as well as my guide to all that existed outside my father's world."

"You're exaggerating," Mrs. Francetti said, her mouth curved into an unconscious smile.

"Miss Ellie helped me with my reading. Later, she helped me with my homework. She would listen to me."

A flash of humor crossed Gibbs' face. "You have my sympathy."

"Funny, boss." His expressive face changed, becoming somber. "I would never have survived without Miss Ellie to run to."

"You were always much stronger than you believed, Tony," she said matter-of-factly. "Now, Special Agent Gibbs, you said you had questions about Frank DiNozzo?"

"Just Gibbs, ma'am."

"Please call me Ellie, Gibbs."

"Thank you, Ellie. We're checking into Frank DiNozzo's activities."

"I'm assuming that this is personal, not related to the military?"

"That's right, Miss Ellie. Gibbs is doing this for me."

"At last," she said with a pleased sigh.

"Miss Ellie?" Tony glanced sideways at Gibbs in surprise.

"I've waited for this moment since I first heard that you had joined the police." She got to her feet. "Come with me."

Puzzled, both men followed Ellie into the back bedroom. She waved her hand toward five boxes filled with folders and large manila envelopes.

"What are those?"

"Everything I've ever heard about your father. Statements from former employees, notes on who he has met over the years as well as some photographs. I even have some of his telephone bills that he foolishly threw into the trash."

Gibbs thumbed through one of the boxes while Tony turned to face Ellie. "This is…thank you so much." He stepped forward and gathered her body into his arms. "This will be an enormous help."

"You're welcome, my dear. Just make certain you're careful. Being his son won't keep you safe if Frank realizes what you're up to."

Before Tony could reply, Gibbs' phone rang.

"What is it, David? When?" Gibbs' face darkened. "He's to say nothing. I'll catch the next flight out."

"Boss?" Tony had a bad feeling.

A muscle flicked angrily at Gibbs' jaw. "McGee's under arrest."

"What for?"

"Assault and attempted rape."


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Gibbs and Tony arrived back at the hotel in record time. Tony pried his fingers off the dashboard before speaking. "Go up and pack. I'll arrange your flight."

"You comin'?"

"No, I'll stay here and fill in for you."

Gibbs stared at his lead agent. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Who, me?" When Gibbs didn't move, Tony frowned. "I won't. Don't worry, Gibbs. I won't lose my head."

As they walked into the hotel, telling the valet to park the car close by as it would be needed shortly, Gibbs reached out and popped Tony on the back of the head.

"What was that for?" Tony reached up and touched the spot.

"Just a reminder that you'll have me to deal with."

They parted at the elevators, Gibbs heading up to their suite while Tony stalked across to the reception desk.

"Yes, Mr. DiNozzo, can I be of assistance?" The sharply dressed clerk smiled at him.

"I need to find Thomas Teasdale."

"I believe that Mr. Teasdale is in the Hancock Room."

"Thanks, Claudia." Tony quickly moved down the hallway to the meeting room. He slipped through the doors, searching for Teasdale. Once he found him, he walked across the room and knelt next to the millionaire. "Tom, I need to speak to you."

Teasdale, seeing the barely controlled anger, quickly got to his feet and followed Tony out into the hall. "What's wrong?"

"You told me once that you owed me, that whatever I wanted, all I had to do was ask."

"I still mean it. What do you need?"

"A plane to fly Gibbs to Long Island. It's really important or I wouldn't ask."

"I know you wouldn't. Where?"

"Somewhere near the Hamptons."

Tom pulled his cell out and spoke to Tony while using the keypad. "My pilot will fly him into the Long Island MacArthur Airport. I'll have a car waiting for him when he arrives."

Tony closed his eyes a moment in relief. "Thank you, Tom. I really appreciate this."

"For what you did to save my daughter, I will owe you the rest of my life."

Gibbs appeared at the end of the hallway, glaring. "Well?"

"Done, boss." Tony quickly explained what he had arranged. "It'll get you there faster and closer than you'd be if you flew commercial into Islip."

"Tom, thank you." Gibbs held his hand out.

Teasdale took it and gave a quick pump. "Whatever I can do to help. C'mon, I'll drive you there if you're ready."

Gibbs lifted a small overnight bag, actually a computer bag. "Got enough for a day or two."

"Boss, tell McGee…just get him out of trouble."

"I will. And you," he pointed at Tony. "Don't do anything stupid."

Tony held his hands up. "I promise."

~NCIS~

Tony stood outside his father's office building, tweaking his Armani suit into place. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he strode into the building. He headed for the reception desk.

"May I help you?" The woman behind the counter was dressed in black, heightening the translucence of her face and neck. Her seductive young body was typical of his father's female employees.

"Anthony DiNozzo to see my father."

"Mr. DiNozzo, this way." Tony turned to see one of his father's goons waiting by the express elevator.

He followed without a word, keeping his eyes on the shiny gold doors. Once they arrived on the top floor, the doors slid open with a soft whoosh.

"In there, Mr. DiNozzo." The goon pointed to a pair of rich mahogany doors.

Tony walked with stiff dignity to the indicated room. He hesitated for a heartbeat before pushing the doors open. The room was dominated by a huge gilt-edged desk, centered between two floor-to-ceiling windows. His father sat behind it, reading glasses perched on his nose.

"Anthony."

"Cute touch, Father."

"What are you referring to?"

"The raised platform. Puts you up above the hoi polloi. Makes them look like supplicants."

"I assume there's a reason for your visit."

"I want you to stop this."

Frank DiNozzo shuffled through his papers impatiently. "I'm busy, Anthony. I'd prefer that you get to the point."

"Call off your dogs." When his father merely stared at him, Tony fought to control his temper. "You have a problem with me, take it out on me. Leave my friends, my coworkers, my bosses alone."

"Are you going to quit your job?"

Tony opened his mouth to agree, to save Tim by sacrificing himself. Unbidden, Gibbs' face appeared in his mind's eye. "Not this time, Father."

"Then your friend will have to take his chances with the court system. Of course, by the time he's cleared, if he is, his career will be over, his reputation destroyed. Are you willing to let him pay for your stubbornness?"

Temper smoldered in his eyes. "No, I'm not. Gibbs will get McGee cleared."

"You seem quite certain of that."

One corner of Tony's mouth twisted upward. "I am. Gibbs takes care of his people, it's a Marine thing. You've made a fatal error, two of them actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You came after, not one, but two of Gibbs' team. He makes a bad enemy."

The elder DiNozzo waved his hand dismissively. "As do I. You should know that by now."

"Let me tell you something, Father, if it came down to betting on you or Gibbs winning any pissing match, all my money would be on Gibbs."

"Get out," Frank growled. "Get out of my office."

"You know, I came here ready to give in, to let you drive me out of town. I was prepared to abandon everything I had built, the friendships as well as my career."

"Career," his father said disparagingly.

"Yeah, Father. Career." A muscle clenched along his jaw. "I've found a career with NCIS. I've learned more in the last few years in NCIS, with Gibbs, then I ever would have in Philly or Peoria. I guess I owe you for that. If you hadn't driven me from those towns, I wouldn't have been working in Baltimore. And I never would've butted heads with Gibbs."

"Gibbs, Gibbs! You act as if he were your father rather than me." Frank's dark face set in a vicious expression.

"I wish he was." Tony turned on his heel and walked out of the office.

"Get out! You're nothing to me. Do you hear, nothing!"

Tony ignored the shouts as he stepped into the elevator. He didn't make the mistake of believing his father would wipe his hands of him. Frank DiNozzo would be out for revenge. Hopefully the anger would be directed at him, not his teammates.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Gibbs was steaming by the time he stepped out of the private jet in New York. He found not only a car waiting for him, but Ziva David as well. She stood beside the vehicle, slender and dark-haired, fiery with eyes that glowed and pierced.

He threw his bag into the back seat of the car before getting behind the steering wheel. "Tell me."

Ziva began. "We were interviewing the Tuttles, Theodore and Martha. Mr. Tuttle worked for Tony's father, but didn't move to Maine with him. They claimed that their daughter had worked in the kitchen as a teenager, so McGee went to her house next door to interview her.

"Why not you?"

Ziva hung onto the strap as Gibbs veered around a slower moving car. "Mrs. Tuttle said she had photographs that might help us. She seemed more comfortable with me." Her face darkened. "It was all a toy."

"Toy? You mean, ploy?"

"Yes, ploy. It was a ploy to keep me away. There were no usable photos. Turn left at the next light."

"Go on," Gibbs ordered, taking the turn.

"I met up with McGee outside. It was no more than ten minutes later. He was disgusted. She had nothing to say of importance. Just as we were about to leave, the daughter came running out of her house, screaming. Police cars arrived with lights and sirens shortly after. She told them that McGee had tried to rape her!"

They arrived at the police station, Gibbs parking as close to the entrance as possible. After shutting off the engine, he turned to face Ziva. "Are they serious about this?"

She shrugged. "It appears that they are."

"Let's go."

Gibbs didn't miss the immediate reaction of the officers to Ziva's appearance. Some stepped back out of reach while a few dropped their hands onto their holstered weapons. A slanted smile appeared on Gibbs' face. "See you had a few words with the locals."

"Just a few." She glared at the man striding toward them. "Especially with that one, Captain Weston. He's in charge, so he says. But…" her voice trailed off.

"But?"

"I think someone else is pulling the reins."

Before Gibbs could question her further, the captain arrived.

"Get that woman out of my station."

Gibbs' left eyebrow rose a fraction. "She's with me."

"And who the hell are you?"

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." Gibbs held up his badge, flipping the folder to review his identification card next. "You arrested my man. I want him released."

"Well, Special Agent Gibbs, I'm Captain George Weston. You don't get a pass just because you're a federal agent. Your man attacked a woman in my town. As far as I'm concerned, they can throw away the key."

"Let me see him."

"You don't come in here making demands." When Gibbs simply continued staring at him, Captain Weston blustered a bit more before giving in. "Fine. Jackson! Take Special Agent Gibbs back to our rapist's holding cell."

As Gibbs began to follow the uniformed officer, Weston called after him. "What about her?"

"Ziva? No blood."

Her grin was anything but pleasant and caused a few more officers to find places to be other than in the vestibule.

The cell holding Tim McGee was the last one in a long row. Most were empty. McGee's cell, however, had two very large men in with him. Both were currently eyeing his agent with a mixture of fear, respect, and confusion.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked, temper still smoldering in his blue eyes.

The younger man jumped to his feet, revealing a split lip and an eye fast swelling shut. "Boss, I swear I didn't do anything wrong."

"I know that, McGee." Gibbs turned his death glare onto the hapless Officer Jackson. "This your idea of a joke?"

"Sir?" Jackson gulped.

"Find a room for me to speak to my agent while we wait for paramedics and for your chief to arrive."

"I don't understand."

Gibbs looked briefly over his shoulder at the cell. "One of two things happened here. Either every other person you had in custody back here was released within the last three hours or Agent McGee was deliberately placed with these three gentlemen. Or are you admitting to working him over?"

Jackson's mouth kept opening and closing before he finally shut it without a word being spoken. He walked to where the cell keys were kept. He removed one, returning to release a quiet McGee. Once the cell was relocked, Jackson led the way to the break room. He shrugged as Gibbs looked at him. "I don't know what happened, sir. I don't understand it, but I also don't think he's gonna run if I let him out." He nodded toward McGee.

"Thank you," Tim said softly, carefully lowering himself onto a chair.

"I'll notify the medics," Jackson promised. "I can't call the chief, Agent Gibbs. I'm sorry."

"I understand, Jackson. Give me his name and number. I'll take care of it."

~NCIS~

Ziva David amused herself by frightening various officers forced to work near the station entrance, unable to leave the area. She finally settled on leaning against a nearby wall and cleaning her nails with her knife. Whenever one of the men came too close, she would smile evilly and rub the pad of her thumb over the blade's edge.

She watched as the officer who had escorted Gibbs came out from the hallway and head to the telephone. She slipped closer when Weston stomped over there.

"What do you think you're doing, Jackson?"

"Calling for the medics, Captain," Jackson replied, somewhat defiantly.

"Are you injured?"

"No, sir, but Special Agent McGee is."

Ziva stiffened, slipping her knife back into its sheath in preparation to kick some Americans. She was surprised when Jackson spoke directly to her.

"I don't think it's serious, ma'am. Agent Gibbs just wanted to have him checked over. There was a little fracas in the cell."

She acknowledged him with a nod. Perhaps he could be spared.

"I don't believe that I gave you permission to do so, nor to leave the fed alone in the holding area." Weston moved to keep Ziva in sight as well as to berate the young police officer.

"He's not, sir. I took him to the break room to wait for the paramedics, along with Agent McGee.

"You did what?!"

Realizing that Weston was delaying medical attention for her partner, Ziva looked at Jackson, then the telephone before pushing herself in between the two men. "My partner is injured? This is how you treat fellow law enforcement officers?" She continued on in that vein, barely allowing the irate Captain a chance to think, much less speak. When her sharp hearing caught the sound of the receiver being put into the cradle, she stopped.

Weston soon realized what had happened, but contented himself with throwing his hands up in the air. "Consider yourself on report, Officer Jackson."

"Yes, sir. My PBA rep will be in touch." Once his captain moved away, Jackson relaxed. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Do not call me ma'am. My name is Ziva. This will cause you problems, yes?"

"Some." He shrugged. "What he…we did, it's wrong."

A new visitor to the station caused a new flurry of activity at the entryway. The newcomer was sharply dressed, his suit almost as expensive as those worn by DiNozzo. He was definitely photogenic, his curled hair in precise relation to the shape of his skull.

"A reporter?" Ziva asked Jackson.

"Worse. The Chief."

The man walked to where Ziva and Jackson stood watching. "Officer David?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm Benjamin Skala, Chief of Police. If you would come with me, please. Officer?"

"Jackson, sir."

"Ah, yes. Please notify your captain that I wish to see him."

"Uh, Chief? He's in his office." Another uniformed officer, a sergeant, appeared at their side. "Jackson, back to work."

"No, Sgt. Kowalski, Officer Jackson is to stay with me. As to your captain, I want him to join Special Agent Gibbs and myself back in the break room. Now."

"Yes, sir."

The sergeant almost saluted before hurrying off.

"If you would be so kind as to lead Officer David and myself to where Special Agent Gibbs is waiting, Jackson."

"Yes, sir. This way please."

Captain Weston came bustling down the hall just as they arrived at the break room. Chief Skala was shaking hands with Gibbs while Ziva visually inspecting the battered and bruised McGee.

"Agent Gibbs, if you wouldn't mind, I think this conversation should be between you, me and Captain Weston. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Gibbs replied smoothly, no obvious expression on his face.

"Good. I believe that room over there is for interrogation. It should be perfect for our needs."

"Officer Jackson, lock up the prisoner," Weston said, trying to regain control.

"Until I'm convinced otherwise, Special Agent McGee is to remain where he is. Have the paramedics been contacted?" The chief quickly overrode his captain.

"Yes, sir."

"Good man, Jackson. Gentlemen, if you please."

Once Weston, Skala and Gibbs disappeared into the interrogation room, Jackson let out a sigh of relief. "I might just come out of this in one piece."

Tim smiled faintly up at him. "Gibbs will make sure you do."

"I'm not gonna worry about it. Look, if you two will be okay, I'll go back up to the front and wait for the medics."

Tim protested. "I don't really need them."

"Perhaps not, McGee, but your injuries need to be recorded officially by a neutral party." Tilting her head to one side, she gave him a slanted look.

"Ziva's right, Agent McGee."

"Please, call me Tim."

"I'm Lou," Jackson said bashfully before leaving them alone.

By the time the three men emerged from their meeting, the paramedics had arrived and left. Officer Jackson jumped to his feet, blanching at the glare he received from Captain Weston.

The chief saw his reaction and put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Don't worry, son. Your captain has too many problems of his own to cause you any."

"Are you a college graduate, Jackson?"

"I will be in six more months, Agent Gibbs."

"Things get bad here, give me a call. We can always use a good man."

"Stop recruiting my people, Gibbs."

Gibbs gave a slanted smile, but still offered his card to Jackson.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't call me sir. I work for a living."

"Yes, s- , Agent Gibbs."

"C'mon, McGee, you're free to go." Gibbs leaned down to help his man up from the bench he was stilling on.

"I don't understand?" McGee stared at Gibbs with rounded eyes.

"Chief Skala has determined that there will need to be further investigation before any charges can be brought against you. You're being released with the understanding that you will make yourself available, either by phone or in person, if needed. The Chief is going to look into both the accusation and the people involved with your arrest and detainment."

"Officer Jackson, I thank you for your assistance to NCIS during this incident. I need to ask for privacy so that I can speak with these agents. If you could wait out front and keep anyone from coming near this area, I'd appreciate it greatly."

"Of course, Chief."

Skala waited until he was certain he was alone with the NCIS agents before speaking. "Now let's talk about Frank DiNozzo. I will get everything I can find on him in our files and send it on to you, but I don't understand what NCIS' interest is."

Gibbs didn't answer at first, assessing the other man. "He's leaning on one of my people. Two now, with the bogus accusation against McGee."

"I want one thing from you, Gibbs."

"Name it."

"If you have any evidence of illegal activities in my district, I want copies."

"Consider it done, Chief."

~NCIS~

The jet was waiting when Gibbs arrived with Ziva and McGee. "You two are coming with me. We've got a pile of boxes to go through. Get your gear and climb on board."

"Agent Gibbs, would you like me to take care of the car for you? I'll be glad to arrange its storage or return, if you prefer."

"That would be helpful." He smiled down at the petite young woman, admiring her peach-tinted creamy skin.

She grinned, pushing back her mass of bronze-gold hair. "It's my pleasure. More so if it means you'll come back to pick it up."

"I'll make a point of it." Gibbs walked with nonchalant grace to the plane.

Once aboard, Gibbs flipped his phone open. "DiNozzo, we're on our way. Bring a car to the airport. David and McGee." Something in his senior agent's tone of voice had Gibbs on alert. "What's wrong, DiNozzo?"

"Agent Gibbs, we're preparing for take-off. I'm afraid you'll have to resume your cell phone conversation after we hit cruising altitude."

"Thank you, Mr. Hatchett. DiNozzo, we'll talk when we land."

"Boss, is there a problem?" McGee asked.

"I don't know."

"You believe that Tony's father is behind McGee's arrest?"

"Yeah, Ziva, I do. He's made a career of trying to control his son's life." Gibbs went on to briefly explain the situation between the two DiNozzos.

"So what can we do to help?" McGee couldn't imagine being manipulated that way by his father, a loving man who didn't always understand his children, but supported them in whatever they wanted to do.

"Find some evidence that can either put him away for the rest of his natural life or at least get me some leverage over him. Frank DiNozzo is a man who wants to look as if his hands are clean. He values his standing with other businessmen."

Sometime later during the flight, Ziva watched as McGee dozed in his seat, a pair of headphones covering his ears. "I could eliminate the problem," she offered quietly.

"Appreciate the offer, but if that was an option, I would've handled it myself." Gibbs leaned forward. "DiNozzo is dealing with enough already with this unofficial investigation."

"I can understand that."

"Your father?"

Ziva's smile was tinged with sadness. "It is very hard, Gibbs, dealing with a father who considers his children as pawns, as tools, not as human beings with minds of their own. It is something that Tony and I have in common."

"You survived. As has Tony. He's just realizing that he doesn't have to be a pawn any longer."

"It is still difficult to be told that you are a disappointment to your parent."

Gibbs nodded in understanding.

~NCIS~

When Tony arrived at the private airfield in the rental car, he was unusually somber. He helped stash everyone's bags in the trunk. "Boss, I really don't think bringing them here is a good idea."

"Seems like not having them here wasn't any better. Don't worry about it, DiNozzo."

Tony shrugged, unable to argue the point. He moved his attention to McGee, stopping him before he could climb into the back seat. "Tim, I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am that this happened to you. I should've done something to stop it…" Tony's voice trailed off, patches of red flaring on his cheeks.

"Tony, it wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done."

"There was. I could've told my father that I'd leave."

"And let him rule your life as well as ruin it? You're stronger than that. You belong at NCIS, Tony." Tim reached over and gripped Tony's forearm, shaking him gently. "Everything will work out."

"I swear I won't let you go down for this. Whatever it takes, I'll get you out from under the charges."

Worried by Tony's demeanor, Tim frowned. "Hey, don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I mean it, Tony," Tim said firmly, surprising both Tony and himself by his insistence.

"Okay, okay, McNag, I'll behave." His smirk softened. "You're a good friend, Tim. And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."

The snarky comment lightened Tim's mood. He was still worried about his partner, but at least Tony was trying. Now it was up to the team to find a way out, to get the leverage to keep Frank DiNozzo out of his son's life.

The drive to the hotel was quiet, the atmosphere charged. Tony was driving, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. When he pulled into the parking lot and found an empty space, he maneuvered the car into it. He turned the key, shutting off the engine and remained sitting there. He listened as Ziva and Tim opened their doors and got out of the vehicle. He popped the trunk open for them to retrieve their gear. Gibbs remained sitting in the car beside him, waiting.

"Okay, fine, I went to see my father while you were gone. Satisfied?"

Gibbs finally turned to look at him. "Since you're still here, I presume you didn't agree to quit."

Tony shook his head quickly. "I was going to, boss. I didn't want any of this to spill onto McGee or the others, but all I could think about when I was facing my father was that it had to stop. I'm almost 40 years old, Gibbs. I'm tired of running, I'm tired of moving from place to place. I mean, in the past it wasn't that big a deal. I never really put down any roots, you know? But here…"

"Here you found a home." Gibbs' voice was so soft, Tony almost missed hearing him.

"Yeah, I found a home as well as a career. I didn't want to give it all up." Unspoken was the additional fact that Tony had found a family, people who truly cared for him, put up with his nonsense and reined him in when he needed it. Most importantly of all, they let him be himself.

"No more giving in?"

Tony's initial reaction was to agree, but he hesitated.

"DiNozzo?"

"I'm not gonna let McGee go down because of me, Gibbs. All I can promise is to exhaust every other option first."

"Good enough." Gibbs pushed his door open, looking toward where McGee and David stood waiting. "Let's get back to work."


	9. Chapter 9

9.

After warning the two newcomers to keep quiet, Gibbs and Tony had removed the listening device from its resting place, crushing it and disposing of the pieces down the toilet. Once the suite had been checked over carefully for new bugs and found to be clean, Tony called the Teasdale's suite.

"Tom, we're back. Yeah, I appreciate the loan of the jet. No, not exactly, but we're working on it. I need to pick up the boxes I left with you. Anybody show any interest? Good. McGee and I'll be up in a couple of minutes to get them. Thanks." Tony turned to Gibbs. "Tom said it went smoothly, nobody seems to have noticed us carting them to his room. Best guess was anyone who saw him with the boxes assumed it was something for the girls."

"Good. Grab a luggage cart so we can keep the trips down to one," Gibbs ordered. "Ziva, you stay here. Nobody comes into the room. Got it?"

The Israeli's smile was gleefully dangerous. "No one allowed into the room. I understand."

It took very little time to shift the items from one suite to the other. It took longer for Tony to detach himself from the girls who wanted him to stay and play. While McGee looked on in surprise, Tony promised to make an effort to see them before they flew back home with their future step-mother, giving both girls a hug and a kiss.

The boxes provided by Ellie Francetti had been extremely detailed, although most of it appeared to be of little use. Tony was flipping through the photographs. About halfway through the pile, a familiar face caught his attention. He pulled the photo out, studying it before nudging McGee, on his cell with Abby, away from the open laptop.

"Got something?"

"I might, boss. Remember that stuff McGee sent us?"

"I remember you spotted something," Gibbs replied.

"I thought I had, but I got…distracted by my father's visit. Plus everything else that happened." Tony handed the photo to Gibbs. "I've seen this man."

"When? And who is he?"

"The who is Anton Korlov." Tony turned the computer screen toward Gibbs. "According to this, Korlov had repeatedly met with my father since the collapse of the Soviet Union. They were exploring possible investment opportunities in the former communist countries. The name rang a bell, but I couldn't place it."

Gibbs looked at the photograph again. Korlov's massive shoulders filled the coat he wore, his thick neck reminding the ex-Marine of a weightlifter. "Until now."

"Until now," Tony agreed. "I've seen him with my father at least five times."

"From before the collapse." It was another statement rather than a question. "The KGB guy?"

This statement caught everyone's attention. Ziva's head jerked up from the files while McGee paused in mid-sentence on the telephone. Tony waved them off. "He's not really with the KGB," he assured the two agents.

Once they resumed their activities, Tony turned back to Gibbs. "I remember thinking he looked like the Incredible Hulk back then. I always wondered why he wasn't green."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Gibbs watched Tony consider the question, searching his memory.

"I think it was at my mother's funeral. It wasn't that long afterward that I was sent away to boarding school, so if they continued to meet, which from these pictures appears that they did, I don't personally know about it." He gave an impatient shrug. "I'll see what I can find out about him."

"Let McGee do it. We have another panel to attend. McGee!"

"Boss?"

"Full workup on this man, Anton Korlov. I want everything, past and present. Get an address as well."

"Got it."

Tony's head was swiveling from Gibbs to McGee. "You're the only one involved in that panel. And it won't be for another hour."

"Ziva, McGee, this is now a secured area. One of us is to be here at all times. Room service is to be kept within reason and housekeeping will be under close observation at all times. You will search the room and anything new brought in after any visitor. I don't want to have another listening device. All computers are to be turned off or closed, all papers covered or filed."

"Understood." Ziva acknowledged the orders.

"There are two double beds as well as a pull-out couch, so our sleeping arrangements are taken care of."

"Great, I get to sleep with McGee. At least he doesn't snore," Tony said, looking at Ziva.

"I do not snore!"

"Ha! I didn't get a wink all night when we posed as husband and wife. It's a wonder we didn't complaints from other people staying on the floor."

"Enough! DiNozzo, let's go."

Once outside the room, Gibbs checked for interested bystanders. Finding no one lurking about, he strode toward the elevator. Tony was one-half-step behind his boss on the left hand side, his usual position.

Once enclosed in the mirror-tiled box, Tony felt it was safe to speak. "You punched Tom's floor number. Why?"

"No matter what we do, chances are we can't arrest your father for anything."

Tony half-shrugged. "Figured it was a waste of time. My father always wins."

"I didn't say that, DiNozzo." He turned to face his agent, fixing him in a blue-eyed vise. "The goal, the real goal, is to keep him from pressuring you, right?"

"Yeah. I just want to be left to live my life. He disavows me as his son, yet continually tries to pull me back." He blew out his cheeks, disgusted by his maddening inability to break free.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft whoosh, Gibbs moved with the hard grace of one who had total control of himself. Tony admired it, not knowing that he echoed that when on the job.

"There's one thing that seems to mean more to Frank DiNozzo than even controlling your life." Gibbs continued down the hall until he reached the Teasdale suite. "That's where we'll find our leverage."

Tony watched as his boss rapped his knuckles on the gilt-trimmed door. He felt a weight begin to lift off, but tried to rein his optimism in. He had enormous confidence in Gibbs, but he also knew just how devious and determined his father was.

The door was pulled open to reveal the tall and rugged figure of Thomas Teasdale. "Jethro, Tony. Come in."

"I know this is unannounced, Tom, but I'd like to get your opinion on something."

"Of course. Let's take this into the other room before my girls realize their prince is here."

Tony flashed an oblique, quick, half-shy look at both men. He tried to hide it, but Gibbs could see how thrilled he was by the girls' hero worship by the blush of pleasure that rose to his cheeks.

Tom continued. "Currently they are supposed to be taking a nap."

"Doesn't sound like you believe it," Tony said.

"They'll sprawl on their beds. Sleep, however, will be the last thing on their minds."

Gibbs chuckled, remembering his daughter's naptime. "Doesn't even matter how sleepy they might be."

"Isn't that the truth?" After closing the door to the small office-like room, Tom gestured to the coffeemaker. "Can I offer you a cup?"

Tony refused, not needing the additional buzz of caffeine. Gibbs naturally accepted. Tom got a cup for himself before speaking. "Okay, what can I do for you? Is this about Frank DiNozzo?"

"What would happen if it could be proven that Frank had business dealings with the Soviets?" Gibbs asked.

"Long before the wall fell, back when it was illegal to conduct any business with them," Tony added softly.

"You're certain of this?"

The two agents nodded.

"Well, some won't really care, especially if he made a profit."

"What about people like you? Hell, what about you?"

Brows knitted in a frown, Tom considered the question. "I'm sorry, Tony. I would consider that to be not only unethical, but illegal. Treason."

"Would you ever do business with someone like that?" Gibbs persisted.

"No, I wouldn't."

"So, revealing this wouldn't seriously affect his business?"

"Not really."

Tony bent his head and studied his hands, tightly clenched. "How would he be treated personally?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Tony."

"If this got out, would the pillars of the business world socialize with him? Would my father be invited to parties, to play golf, to lead charity events?"

Tom hesitated before answering. "I frankly doubt it. I don't want to trash your father to your face, Tony."

"There's little that you can say that I don't already know, Tom. Believe me. Just be honest."

"Okay, if you're certain." At Tony's nod, Tom expanded. "Without a doubt, Frank DiNozzo is a very wealthy and powerful man. In certain circles he has great influence. And that's part of the problem."

Gibbs leaned forward. "His influence?"

"Tom means the circles, boss. My father wants to be a mover and shaker at the highest levels, to keep company with the likes of Warren Buffett, Ted Turner, Steve Gates, Steve Jobs, and Thomas Teasdale. And he doesn't understand that he never will." Tony pushed back a wayward strand of dark hair.

"So he honestly thinks he has a chance of joining that group of financial wizards, men who use their money to improve the lives of others rather than controlling them?" Gibbs asked.

A momentary look of discomfort crossed Tom's face. "Based on his eagerness to do business with me as well as his attempt to use Tony for an introduction, I would say he does."

"We may be able to use that, DiNozzo."

Tony shrugged, about to speak when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, blinking at the name on the screen. "It's McGee. Yeah, Probie?"

While Tony spoke to the younger agent, Gibbs took their leave of Tom. Outside the suite, Tony stopped. "Hang on a minute, McGee. Boss, I'm heading back to our room. You're the only one actually scheduled for the panel."

"McGee have something?"

"Maybe. He wants me to check it out."

"Okay, go."

Teasdale frowned as he watched Tony leave the room. "He's hurting. After all his father has done to him, he's still hurting."

"That's the problem. Despite everything, Frank DiNozzo is still his father."

"So what are all these questions for?"

"A way to make Frank back off. He wants Tony to return to the family business and he's willing to do whatever it takes to achieve that end."

"Based on what I know, you're on the right path. Threats of legal action probably wouldn't work. It's a part of the game. But the threat of public humiliation, of losing grace with his peers and those he thinks of as his peers could definitely work."

~NCIS~

"What've you got, McGee?" Tony breezed into the suite, startling the younger agent.

"I found this buried in the bottom of the oldest file box. I think it's your mother's diary." McGee held out the small red brocade journal. "I haven't read it."

Tony gently took the notebook, overwhelmed by a rush of semi-sweet remembrance. "Thanks, Tim." He walked slowly into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Moving to the bed, he lowered himself until he was hunched on the edge, the book now tightly gripped in his sweaty hands.

His mother would write a few lines every evening before his father would come home if she was sober enough. He would watch, wondering what she could find to share with the non-judgmental pages. Taking a deep breath, he began to read from the first page, the diary beginning just before Antoinette Paddington married Francisco DiNozzo.

~NCIS~

"Should we check on him?" Ziva found herself glancing at the closed door for the umpteenth time.

"Tony will let us know if he needs anything." Tim stretched until his spine cracked.

"It has been two hours," she muttered uneasily.

"Ziva, this has got to be hard for him."

Biting her lip, she looked away. "I understand that. It is why I am worried."

"All we can do is to be here for Tony when he needs us. And to find out what he and Gibbs need to handle his father."

The door to the suite clicked as Gibbs walked inside, stowing the key card in his jacket pocket. "Where's DiNozzo?"

"In the bedroom, boss. With his mother's diary."

Gibbs nodded, striding into the room with nary a moment's hesitation. His agent was sprawled against the headboard, his tie hanging loose around his neck, his green eyes turned mossy with pain and grief.

"He killed her." Tony's pain-filled eyes peered up at Gibbs. "My father had my mother killed."

Gibbs pulled a chair from the small writing desk and set it next to the bed. He settled into it, his blue eyes locked on Tony.

"She really had stopped drinking. My mother planned to leave him, to take me with her. But she wanted to pass some information to the feds first. That's where her diary ends, the day she died." Tony scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands. "Damn it, she was putting her life back together and he took everything away."

"Tell me about her death."

"The official story, the one given to the press, was that my mother lost control of her car and crashed into a stand of trees while on the way to shop in New York City."

"And what were you told?"

"That my drunken mother finally achieved her goal of killing herself at last."

Gibbs pulled his cell phone out, pressing his speed dial. "Ducky, I need you to pull any medical records or autopsy reports on Mrs. Antoinette DiNozzo." He provided the medical examiner with the location and date of death.

"Is this Anthony's mother?"

"It is. I want to know if there was any alcohol or drugs found in her system. Contact me as soon as you know anything."

"I'll find the police report," Tony said.

"Let McGee do that. Which federal agency was she meeting?"

"The SEC."

"The Securities Exchange Commission? Why?"

"She doesn't say, but a lot of my father's wealth was gained through stock takeovers. It's just a guess, but based on his usual actions, I imagine bribes for inside information were involved. In those days, people were actually sent to jail for that sort of thing."

"Let's see if there's a record of her appointment." Gibbs got to his feet, waiting for Tony to join him. "There are SEC representatives here. Let's find one willing to help."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

It was early evening before everyone met up again in the suite. The remnants of room service were scattered across the tables. As Gibbs sipped at his coffee, the team made their reports, Abby and Ducky present through the computer webcam.

"Antoinette DiNozzo died of extensive injuries incurred in an automobile accident. I will save you the details, my dear boy, but be assured that she felt very little pain. She was unconscious almost immediately." Ducky looked up from the sheath of papers in his hand. "There was no trace of alcohol or drugs in her system."

"Thank you, Ducky." Tony's voice was shakier than he would have liked, but he was happy to hear that his mother actually had been sober.

"McGee?" Gibbs turned to the young man.

"The police report was harder to get. They claimed at first that there was no report, that no investigation was ever done since it was just an accident. When I refused to accept that, the story changed to it being destroyed when the department converted their records to computer."

"That's when we wondered how thorough they were," Abby chimed in from the computer.

"So we decided to…check." McGee looked defiantly at both Gibbs and Tony.

"You hacked into police records?" Tony looked aghast, but his shining green eyes betrayed his gratitude.

"Yeah, well, you wanted the information. So we got it."

"Good work, McGee. What did you find?"

"There was a pretty thorough investigation begun, including photographs and some detailed notes by the first officers on the scene. They directly contradict the two versions of the accident Tony related." Tim clicked on the saved file, enlarging it to display on the laptop screen.

"There's more than enough in here to say that your mother's car was forced off the road, Tony. The problem is that it won't hold up in court. All the evidence was destroyed long ago." Abby frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Abby. I'm surprised you found as much as you did. Somebody messed up when they kept the paperwork."

Tim hesitated, measuring Tony for a long moment. "No one knows the physical evidence is gone, not really."

Ziva's smile was filled with cold rage. "If a report survived long after it should have been destroyed, why not actual proof?"

"Exactly."

Tony looked to Gibbs. "It fits. She was looking to run, taking his only son away. My father wouldn't have allowed that. And with my mother's history, she'd never win a custody battle."

"But if she could provide proof of illegal activities with the feds, not only would it weaken his moral high ground, it would keep Frank too busy to take direct action against her." Gibbs nodded slowly.

"Only she miscalculated. She either told the wrong person or was seen taking the evidence."

"Or overheard making the appointment with the SEC. However it happened, they were waiting when Antoinette left the estate."

"I have to be the one to confront him, Gibbs."

"Agreed. You'll be wired."

Before Tony could do more than open his mouth, his cell rang. "DiNozzo. Hey, Kyle, did you find out anything?" Tony listened intently, scribbling on a nearby pad of paper. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks, buddy. I owe ya."

He opened his computer, finding a file sent earlier by McGee. "Remember how I thought this guy looked familiar?" Tony tapped the photograph, a group shot of his father, pointing to a hulking figure in the back.

"You never said anything more. I gather you made some calls?"

"One. A friend who used to work on the Russian mob. This is Sergei Potemkin, an enforcer who discovered capitalism and America about thirty years ago. He was a frequent visitor at our house. He wasn't at the funeral and, at least until I was sent off to school, I don't believe he visited again."

"Wait." Tim quickly crossed the room, shifting boxes before digging through the bottom one. He pulled out a yellowed newspaper clipping attached by paperclip to a small Polaroid. "It's the same man, isn't it?"

"Looks like it. The photo's fairly recent. That's a 1997 Jaguar parked behind my father." Tony scanned the article, a report about a factory expansion. "I don't understand the relationship between the article and this picture."

"I did a little checking when I first saw it in the file. The factory was owned by a family-run company based in Georgia," Tim said.

"I'm assuming you aren't referring to the home of Scarlet O'Hara."

"Who?" Ziva asked.

"Fictional vixen, played by Vivian Leigh in the movies," Tony explained.

"No, I'm talking about the former Soviet state."

"Another connection."

"Abby, I need a wire for DiNozzo. Overnight it."

"You'll need me to hook Tony up," Abby said, eagerly peering into the webcam.

"No!" Tony snapped. Seeing the hurt in the forensic specialist's soft green eyes, he reached touch her image. "I won't let him near you, Abs. He's dangerous and you'd be a perfect target."

"Aww, that's sweet, Tony. But I can take care of myself."

"Against a straight-forward opponent, I have no doubt about that. But Frank is devious. Just ask Tim. Please, Abby, I'm begging you. Stay at headquarters."

She grumbled a bit, finally giving in. "Okay, Tony, I'll stay here for you. I'm putting detailed instructions in with the wire. Follow them!"

"We're intelligent, responsible adults, Abby. I think we can handle it." Tim realized his mistake immediately, but it was too late.

While Abby and Tim argued about a prior miscalculation due to failure to read the instructions, Tony walked away. Ziva followed, her hand touching him gently on the arm. "Tony, I am so sorry."

"Thanks." His body shuddered with grief and anger. "I just don't understand how anyone can do that to their children. No matter how many times I've seen it happen, I still don't understand."

"Control. It is all about control. Your father, my father, they use people. Feelings mean nothing. In truth, emotions are considered weakness."

Tony turned and put his arm around Ziva, giving her a quick squeeze. "You probably understand better than anyone here." He looked at the others. Abby and Tim were still arguing while Gibbs ignored them. Ducky was trying to calm them down without laughing. It was all so normal, something he had craved his whole life. He never knew just how close to normal he had come until the fiasco with Jeanne Benoit.

"He will pay. One way or another, your father will pay."

Something in Ziva's voice had Tony looking sharply at her. "No."

"What?"

"Don't play innocent. It doesn't suit you."

Ziva flicked an imaginary speck of fluff from Tony's jacket. "I don't know what you are referring to."

"I know you want to help, Ziva, but he isn't worth it."

"You are," she said softly.

Tony's lips quivered up into a smile. "Really?"

"Tell anyone and I will deny it."

"Of course. Wouldn't expect anything else." His smile faded a little when he looked at her. "I mean it. I won't let you be touched by him either, I won't let you get involved more than you already are. It's not worth it, not even for me. Promise me, Ziva. Promise you'll let me handle this."

She shook her head disapprovingly. "You are my partner. I want to help."

"Help, not take matters into your own hands. I want your word, Ziva."

She raised her chin with a cool stare in Tony's direction. "I will allow you the opportunity to handle the situation."

Tony knew that was as good as he was going to get.

"Are you two ready to get back to work?" Gibbs had settled the online argument by shutting off the computer connection.

"Yeah, boss."

"Of course, Gibbs."

~NCIS~

Tony, used to hiding his real feelings, was his usual friendly self to the casual observer. If he occasionally appeared distracted, it was put down to boredom or dealing with Gibbs. Only those who knew him knew differently.

During a panel on interagency relationships which Ton was involved in, Gibbs found himself joined by Tom Teasdale at the back of the room.

"What to tell me what's wrong?" Tom kept his voice low.

Gibbs didn't answer.

"Tony looks strained and you're almost as intense as when he was missing with my daughter. I'm also hearing strange rumblings about Frank DiNozzo."

This got Gibbs' attention. "What rumblings?"

"According to a former business associate who works at DiNozzo Industries, Frank is on a rampage. Something or someone has him pissed. He took the corporate jet out to Long Island yesterday and returned in even worse a rage."

"Long Island? Interesting." He rose fluidly from his chair, opening his cell as he slipped into the hallway.

Curious, Tom followed and listened into the conversation.

"Ben? Gibbs. Heard you had company out in your neck of the woods. Really? Bet he didn't like that. No, nothing concrete. But you might get someone you trust to look into his first wife's death. Nothing definite. Yeah. Antoinette. I'll let McGee know. Maybe later." He closed the phone and walked back into the conference room, reclaiming his seat.

Tom knew he'd never get answers from Gibbs, not until the other man was ready, but he also found he couldn't simply walk away. He honestly liked both Gibbs and Tony and wanted to help if he could. So he leaned back in his chair and waited for an opportunity to help.

After some questions regarding the panel topic, it was over. Tony made his way through the chatting attendees, snagging a spare chair and straddling it.

"McGee's cleared."

Tony's lips parted in surprise. "Of all charges?"

"Yep. The Chief personally oversaw the investigation and determined that the alleged victim was lying," Gibbs replied.

"Good to hear."

"Your father wasn't so pleased."

"What did he do?" Tony managed to ask despite his clenched jaw.

"Made a little visit to try and influence the case. He picked the wrong man. Chief Ben Skala is honest and tough, not to mention wealthy enough not to be vulnerable to any bribe attempts."

"Everything is really over? McGee is done with it all, he won't have to go back for any more questions?"

"I just told you that, DiNozzo. Might want to check your hearing when we get back home."

A smile found its way through the mask of uncertainty. "Okay. Good, good. Does McGee know yet?"

"I thought you might like to tell him yourself."

"I think I would. Thanks, Gibbs." Tony bounced up and quickly strode off.

"My offer is still good, Gibbs. Whatever you need, it's yours."

"Thanks, Tom. I think we can handle it, but I'll keep it in mind."

~NCIS~

Ziva closed the hotel room door, package safely in hand. "The wire has arrived."

"Good. I don't think Tony can take much more of this." Tim stopped organizing the various boxes provided by Mrs. Francetti. "He's about to snap he's wound up so tight."

"He needs an inlet for his emotions," she said firmly.

"Inlet? You mean outlet."

"In, out. Whichever. We need to do something." Ziva leaned forward, depositing the securely wrapped box on the coffee table.

"I'm not disagreeing, Ziva, but what can we do?"

"If this happened in Baltimore, Gibbs would take Tony down to the gym."

Tim hunched over, his arms resting on his thighs. "But we're not in Baltimore."

"I know that! But there is an exercise area on the roof."

"I don't think a walker and a stationary bike would be much help."

"Probably not, but something else that is up there might. You need to convince Tony to go up there."

"How?"

Ziva threw her hands up in the air. "Figure it out!" She stomped off to the bathroom, muttering in Hebrew all the way, unaware that Tim had a mischievous smile on his face.

After the four special agents had eaten lunch together in the hotel room, Tim asked Tony to join him in a game of one-on-one. "I could use the time away from here. If you don't mind, boss. There's a half court on the roof."

"Sounds like a good idea. We're clear for the rest of the day."

Tony seemed to brighten at the idea and agreed. "Let me change, Probie, and then I'll wipe the court up with you."

"You wish!"

After Tony disappeared into the bedroom, Gibbs turned an approving eye on McGee. "Good idea."

"It was actually Ziva's suggestion." Tim gave the Israeli the credit due to her.

Tony returned in shorts and an Ohio State t-shirt. "C'mon, Probie, prepare to lose."

"You're still dreamin', Tony."

The two men continued bickering as they left the room, leaving Ziva and Gibbs to resume working. It was almost an hour later before there was a loud pounding on the outer door.

Gibbs scooped up his SigSauer as he moved to the door, Ziva mirroring his actions. She stood at the ready to one side of the door while Gibbs took a quick look through the peephole.

"Stand down. It's Teasdale." He pulled the door open, quickly checking out the hallway. "What…"

"There's been trouble on the roof. You need to come now."


	11. Chapter 11

11.

Getting a basketball from the attendant, Tony and Tim moved some weightlifting equipment at the edge of the court out of their way before Tony took the ball out and the match was on. It wasn't long before they were both drenched in sweat.

"Tie-breaker, McGee. You gonna make it?" Tony used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

"I can handle it," Tim replied, kneading the stiff muscles of his neck and shoulders with one hand and rolling his head in a circle. "What about you? You're getting a little old for this, aren't you?"

"I'll show you old!" Tony said, stung. He slapped the ball. "Take it out."

After some intense struggle and a few elbow jabs, Tony was in control of the ball and about to try a layup when a shoulder thrown sent him crashing to the ground.

"Tony!" McGee was involved in a fight at the edge of the court, two men trying to grab hold of him without much success.

Tony took a deep breath, released it, then sprang into movement. He grabbed a small dumbbell and smashed it into his attacker's jaw, feeling the bones give. Ignoring the choked scream of pain, he jumped over the crumpled figure to reach McGee. The fight was intense, the attackers meaning business. One struck the younger agent with the flat of his hand, short, vicious and hard.

While Tim shook off the blow, Tony grappled with the two assailants. A glint of sun on silver caught his attention. The knife was all blade and alive in the hand of the man wielding it. He gasped as a pile driving blow slammed into his stomach. Unfortunately the attacker still held onto the knife and skillfully made use of it before Tony could back away.

So sharp it slid into his chest without any difficulty, the knife was just as quickly pulled out. There was no real pain as yet, but Tony knew it wouldn't be long. There was pressure in his chest and he dropped to his knees. The world seemed to blur, centering on an angry Tim McGee. He saw his partner issue a front snap-kick to the groin of the man with the knife. Tim then grabbed the arm and broke it over his knee. The man screamed, scurrying away once he was released.

Tony struggled to stay conscious, looking for the third man. He heard the unmistakable click of a hammer being cocked and turned to see the last thug preparing to aim at McGee. With his last bit of energy, Tony threw himself at the arm holding the gun, pushing it down and twisting the wrist.

The bloodlust was a fever pitch, Tony and his opponent oblivious to the shouts of the people beginning to appear on the roof. They struggled for control of the weapon, twisting and rolling on the concrete. Tony could feel his panic rising as he found it more and more difficult to draw a breath.

Desperate, he tucked the man's hand under his arm and grabbed for the man's long, greasy hair. He slammed the man's head against the concrete until a rear hug hold pulled him away.

"It's over, Tony. Calm down, I've got his gun." Tim finally released the gasping man. About to pull away, he spotted the smear of red on his arm. "Tony, where are you hurt? Tony!"

"Knife. Chest."

"Crap. Okay, I need to see how bad. Settle down and let me look."

"Can't…breathe."

"Tony, Tim. Can I help?" A dark-haired man knelt by the two men while two FBI special agents attending the conference took control of the injured assailants with a third coming to their aid.

"Mr. Teasdale, thank you. Can you get Gibbs?"

"I'm on my way." Teasdale hurried off on his errand.

The FBI agent nodded at McGee. "Agent Carlos Mendez. What can I do to help?"

"Special Agent Tim McGee, NCIS. If you could support Tony while I check his injuries. He's having trouble breathing. And can those guys be put somewhere safe until my boss gets here?"

"No problem. Figured Gibbs would want to talk to them first." He sat on the floor, pulling Tony back until the wounded man was leaning back against his chest. "Ambulances are on the way."

"Don't need one," Tony protested weakly.

"Not for you, DiNozzo, for those three. Just based on a preliminary review I can see a severe concussion, a broken arm and a shattered jaw." Mendez chuckled. "Not bad considering you were unarmed."

"Learned from…the best." Tony choked on his own laughter.

Teasdale returned with both Gibbs and Ziva. Gibbs knelt beside Tony while Ziva took Mendez's place.

"Hey, boss."

"DiNozzo." Gibbs' facial expression didn't change in any way, but there was something in his eyes that had Tim on the verge of panic. "Ambulance?"

"On the way," Tim replied, resuming pressure on the wound.

"Tony, I need you to stay as quiet and still as you can. Understand?"

"Sure. What's wrong?" Tony's chest was heaving as he questioned the older man.

"Quiet means no talking." Gibbs could see the frustration in Tony's eyes and explained. "I think it's possible that your lung has collapsed."

The paramedics arrived, amazed at the number of injured men. A quick check had them calling for assistance before the senior paramedic returned to work on Tony. Triage gave Tony and the attacker with the broken jaw priority.

"How about that, Tony, you've got a head of the line pass." Tim stood just behind the paramedic, aware that Tony needed a familiar face to concentrate on while the EMT worked on him.

"Okay, Tony, it looks like you have a traumatic pneumothorax. The knife may have pierced your lung. We'll be transporting you to the hospital and the ER docs will fix you right up." The paramedic chuckled at Tony's less-than-thrilled grimace. "Not your favorite place to go, huh? Can't blame you for that."

"Doesn't matter whether he likes it or not. If he needs to go, he goes." Gibbs glared at Tony before turning his focus to Tim. "McGee, you stick with the guy with the busted jaw."

"Got it, boss. What about the other two?"

"Ziva and I will take care of them."

The paramedic looked up and gulped at the cold fire in Gibbs' blue eyes. "I, uh, I think it's time to go." He and his partner quickly bundled Tony onto a gurney and into the boxy rescue vehicle.

McGee, his arm firmly gripping the moaning assailant, followed close behind.

Once they had driven off, Gibbs returned to where the other two men were being examined by newly arrived emergency personnel. "Do they need transport?"

"This one's arm needs to be set. The other has a possible concussion. They definitely will need to be seen by the doctors, but I don't see a hospital stay." The paramedic eyes the man standing close by the injured individuals.

"Good. We'll be accompanying them," Gibbs stated, Ziva at his side.

"We don't normally allow…"

"They are in our custody and will remain so during their treatment."

"Okay."

~NCIS~

McGee came in search of Gibbs and Ziva while at the hospital.

"You left your charge unguarded?" Gibbs growled.

"He's out cold, boss. They're wiring his jaw right now. And he's handcuffed to the table with one of the FBI's set of cuffs."

Gibbs nodded. "DiNozzo?"

"The doctors say he'll be here at least a day, maybe two. He's got a clean wound, it nicked the lung like you thought so there's a tube in his chest. No other internal damage."

Gibbs could feel some of the tension drain out of him, but it was quickly filled by anger. "What have you found out about your man?"

"Well, he can't talk, but I pulled his wallet and managed to communicate with him by him answering in blinks." McGee handed Gibbs the wallet. "His name is Archie Landis. He was hired to attack Tony, but it wasn't by Frank DiNozzo, not directly anyway. There were no names given, but Landis can and will identify him for a reduced charge. He claims he wasn't aware that Tony was a federal agent."

"You believe him?"

"I do actually. He definitely turned white as a sheet when I told him."

"Stay with him. Until I know who's behind this attack, none of the three are to be left unguarded. I'll get you relief as well as a security detail for DiNozzo."

"Got it, boss." McGee quickly walked back to the treatment room.

Gibbs returned to where Ziva stood menacingly over the two being repaired. He watched as the doctor finished with casting the broken arm. "Are they ready to be released?"

"Yes. I have a pain prescription for Mr. Collins." He indicated the arm. "Mr. Adcock needs close supervision for his concussion. Somehow I don't think that will be much of a problem."

"None at all," Ziva murmured, her smile anything but reassuring.

While the paperwork for their release was being processed, Gibbs called FBI Special Agent Guillermo Mendez. "Guy, I need a favor."

"Name it."

"I don't trust the local police. I need a guard for DiNozzo and relief for McGee."

"I think I can help with that. I'll send a couple of men there within the hour. How's Tony?"

"He'll make it. Appreciate the help." With that, Gibbs shut his cell.

"We need a vehicle to get all of us out of here, Gibbs. But to where?" Ziva spoke without looking away from their prisoners.

"I have an idea about that."

Once the FBI agents arrived, Gibbs had a van waiting. Adcock was accompanied by Ziva while Tim was with Collins. They drove to a nearby storage building, met there by Tom Teasdale.

Gibbs guided the van through the open gate. "Any problems?"

"None. It's set up as you requested. The recording equipment is in the middle unit." Teasdale handed Gibbs a set of keys. "Mind if I stick around?"

Gibbs considered the request.

"I think of Tony as a good friend. I want to know if Frank is behind this attack. If he is involved in any way, I will make it my sole goal to bring him down."

Understanding that sentiment, Gibbs agreed. "You can stay, McGee, you'll run the equipment. Ziva, take Collins and put him in Unit 6. No maiming, no death. I need him conscious and coherent when it's his turn."

She pressed her lips together in anger. "Fine." She forcibly dragged Collins out of the car, ignoring his yelp.

~NCIS~

Gibbs sat across from a nervous Philip Adcock in the hastily put together interrogation room. He was pleased with the heavy metal table and chairs. Using borrowed handcuffs, Adcock was securely attached by one wrist to the table.

Gibbs flipped through the folder provided to him by the Bureau. "You've got quite a record here. Drug sales, petty theft, a little strong arm intimidation. Quite a change going to attempted murder of a federal law enforcement officer."

Intense astonishment touched Adcock's pale, sweating face. "What? I didn't try to kill anyone. Nobody told us he was a fed!"

"Who didn't tell you?"

"I…" He looked frantically around the room. "Steve will kill me."

"Someone is going down for this. The only real question is who. Your buddy Steve stabbed my agent, so I'd prefer to put him away. But I also want the person who ordered this. If you're unwilling to help, I'll have no choice but to deal with whomever is ready to give that person up. It's your call."

There was a long, tension-tight silence in the room. Adcock stirred uneasily in his chair. "If I can tell you who hired us, I can walk?" He said the words tentatively as if testing the idea.

"Not gonna happen. But simple assault beats the hell out of attempted murder of a federal agent." Gibbs waited as Adcock tried to think his way through his limited options.

Finally the frightened man nervously ran his hands through his greasy black hair. "I only heard his first name. Steve was the only one of us to meet him face to face, but I think Archie might've spotted them together once. Maybe he could identify him."

"What was the name?"

"Derek. I heard Steve talking to him on the phone. He called him Derek. I don't know anything else."

After some more questions, Gibbs realized Adcock was telling the truth. He hadn't known any details, only that he and his drinking buddy Archie had been hired to work Tony over. All he knew that the target had pissed off the wrong person and he had to be taught a lesson.

Gibbs left him bemoaning his fate, entering the storage room next door. "Did you get that, McGee?"

"Yeah, loud and clear. Collins next?"

"Nope. I'm calling Mendez to take them both into custody."

Ziva straightened from where she had been slouching against the far wall. "You know who it is."

"McGee, wait here for the pickup. Ziva, you're with me." Gibbs nodded at Teasdale before striding out of the room, the Israeli at his heels.

"Got it, boss." Tim sighed as he watched them leave.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Tony DiNozzo stood outside the hotel room door, waiting until his breath evened out before using his keycard to get inside. The only sound in the room was the soft clicking of computer keys. A quick look around showed only McGee bent over his laptop. Tony let out a sigh. That meant more time before Gibbs killed him.

"Tony? What are you doing here?" Tim paused in his typing. "Gibbs said the hospital was keeping you a couple of days."

He held his arms out, trying to hide the pain the movement caused. "Obviously they didn't."

"You signed yourself out, didn't you?" Tim shook his head in utter disbelief. "Tony, you were stabbed. Your lung collapsed. You could've died."

"I'm fine. I'm all patched up now."

"Right. That's why you're moving so carefully."

Realizing that he wouldn't win that argument, Tony changed the subject. "So where are Gibbs and Ziva?"

"I don't really know. Adcock mentioned a name when Gibbs questioned him. It was only a first name, but I think Gibbs had an idea who it was. He didn't share it with me, just took Ziva with him."

"Adcock?"

"The guy with the gun."

"Okay. What was the name?" Tony moved across the room, preparing to settle on the couch next to McGee.

"Derek."

Tony froze, his heart squeezed in anguish. "Son of a bitch."

"Tony?"

He was on his feet, heading to where his gun and badge had been stowed before the game.

"Tony!" McGee was now on his own feet, closing his laptop and anxiously watching the Senior Special Agent. "Who's Derek?"

"My step-brother. And my father's right-hand man."

"You have a brother?"

"Only by marriage. No blood involved. Although that might change when Gibbs catches up with him. Where's the wire? I need you to hook me up."

"What?"

"C'mon, Tim. I need your help. I'll never be able to do it alone."

Tim swallowed. He had never heard that level of desperation in Tony's voice before. "Okay. Let me get it."

Once Tony was changed and into one of his designer suits and safely taped, the sound level checked, he headed for the door. "Coming?"

"Where are we going?"

"To find him, hopefully before Gibbs and Ziva do. If there is any bloodletting, I want it to be me."

As they left the suite, Tim had one more question. "Was it your father?"

Tony's green eyes darkened with emotion. "I don't know, Probie."

~NCIS~

"Sir, you can't go in there. Sir!" The secretary tried to stop the unannounced visitors, only to be swiftly pushed back down into her chair by Ziva while Gibbs slammed through the closed doors.

"What the…" Frank DiNozzo jumped to his feet. "Exactly what do you think you're doing, Mr. Gibbs?"

"It's Special Agent Gibbs. I want to know where to find Derek Terlizzi."

"I don't see that his whereabouts is any of your business."

"DiNozzo and McGee were attacked today by three men, one of whom put a knife into your son's chest, puncturing his lung."

There was no visible reaction on Frank DiNozzo's face. "Unfortunate. I believe that is a frequent occurrence in his chosen line of work. But I don't see where that pertains to me."

Ziva closed the office door, locking it and resting her back against the solid wood.

"They were hired by Terlizzi. I believe that he's your second-in-command."

This seemed to surprise the Italian businessman. "Derek? Do you have proof of that?"

"Confessions and identification by all three men," Gibbs said, stretching the truth a shade to get the information he needed. "Did you order your son attacked? Or did you want him killed?"

"Why would I want that, Agent Gibbs. I've made no secret of my desire to have my son join me at DiNozzo Industries."

"I think Tony has made it clear that he'll never do that, no matter how many times you force him to start again. Maybe you finally believed him and decided to remove this embarrassment from your family."

"You go too far. I could have you sued for libel."

"Did you hear me say anything libelous, Ziva?"

"No, not a thing."

Frank DiNozzo looked at the Israeli, his eyes narrowed. "Are you one of my son's many whores?"

Ziva stepped forward, only a quick hand signal keeping her from going after the older man. "I am his partner."

"Anything that looks like you is bound to catch my son's eye. I'm warning you, I won't support any of his by-blows."

Ziva shook her head at the man's ignorance. "If your son ever has a child of his own, he will support and love him or her. The mother would never have to petition you for a dime."

"You haven't even asked if he's alive."

"Excuse me?" Frank turned his attention back to Gibbs.

"Your son. You haven't asked about his health."

"He made his choice. He's of no use to me unless he comes to his senses and returns to the family fold."

Realizing that Frank honestly didn't care about his son's wellbeing, Gibbs returned to the original reason for his visit. "Where is Terlizzi?"

"He has an adjoining office." He waved his hand at the recessed door to his right. "If he isn't there, I can't say where he might be. Check with his secretary, she might know his schedule. Derek wouldn't have ordered this attack."

"What makes you say that?" Ziva asked.

"He does nothing without my approval."

"And you didn't okay the attack?" Gibbs pressed.

"I don't know anything about it."

"What about the attack at Starbucks?"

"Get out, both of you, before I call the police. I've been more than patient with you."

Gibbs glared at the well-dressed barrel of a man before turning on his heel. He walked through the adjoining door to Derek Terlizzi's office, finding it empty.

Ziva hesitated, moving closer to the raised desk that Frank DiNozzo hid behind.

"Must I repeat myself, Miss?"

"You only live because of your son. If he is hurt again, I will remove you from his life. Permanently." The promise of death in her dark brown eyes had Frank struggling for his usual composure.

Gibbs returned with Terlizzi's secretary following close behind. "He's on his way to the hospital. To see his ailing brother."

~NCIS~

McGee parked the rental car across the street from the headquarters of DiNozzo Industries. He turned to face Tony, worried by the pale features and lack of his partner's usual animation. "You don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I do. He had my mother killed. He tried to do the same to me. And he's manipulated the people who were willing to be my friends, at the cost of their health and safety. It has to stop."

"Tony, are we talking about your father? I thought we were here to find this Derek guy."

"Don't worry about it, McGee. It's all pretty much the same." Tony pulled himself out of the car, carefully adjusting his suit. "One more sound check."

"You're coming in loud and clear."

"Good. Stay out here, Tim. Whatever you hear, don't come inside."

"Tony, be careful."

"Plan on it." Taking a shallow breath, Tony seemed to transform before McGee's eyes. He stood to his full height and, if the younger agent hadn't known better, looked as if he had never been hurt at all. It was the first time Tim had seen Tony slip into another persona. "One way or another, it ends today."

Tony walked into his father's building, not surprised that everyone knew who he was and waved him through. He was startled when he was immediately ushered into the elder DiNozzo's presence. He had expected to be kept cooling his heels in the outer office, another painful reminder of his relative unimportance.

Once inside the inner sanctum, he found his father blustering at a young woman who was on the verge of tears.

"Find him or you're fired!"

"Yes, sir, Mr. DiNozzo." She scurried out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Frank turned his attention to his son. "I don't appreciate my office being invaded by your coworkers. And I dislike being threatened."

_Threatened? _He tucked that away to think about later. "I don't much like being attacked, Father, so I guess we're even."

"What do you want, Anthony? I already told Agent Gibbs that I don't have anything to do with whatever Derek apparently did, neither do I know where he is at present."

Tony pulled a slim red book from his inside jacket pocket, tossing it on the expensive desk.

"What is that?"

"My mother's diary."

Frank's lips puckered with annoyance. "I have no interest in her maudlin scribbling."

"Funny, before I came here I would've said the same thing. Only I would've been wrong. Seems like my mother was getting her act together. She wanted out of her marriage."

"Drunken ramblings."

"See, that's just it. She was sober. That night she died? My mother had an appointment."

"Really?"

"Yeah, with the feds. Only she had a convenient accident on the way and all the papers in the car disappeared."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Anthony. I think you should leave." Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in Frank's eyes. "Your mother was drunk, as usual, and crashed her car."

"We found the police report, Father, as well as the autopsy. There was no alcohol or drugs in her system. Her car was forced off the road. Her death wasn't an accident, it was deliberate."

"Antoinette betrayed me."

"So you had her killed? My God, Father, she was your wife, your only child's mother." A raw and primitive grief threatened to overwhelm Tony.

"You have no proof of that, Anthony."

"I can prove she was murdered. I can prove she was taking information to the FEC, information that could have resulted in crippling fines or even jail time for you. You can't buy everyone off, even with all your money." He picked the diary up, slipping it back into his jacket.

"You would do this to your own father?"

"As you've told me too many times, I'm not your son," Tony answered him thickly. "All you are is a cold-blooded murderer." Tony turned on his heel and strode to the door.

"Anthony, come back here. Anthony!"

Tony never looked back, clenching his jaw to kill the sob in his throat. Any hope of reconciliation with his father was dead, as dead as his beautiful, flawed, desperate mother. He punched the elevator button repeatedly, desperate to get away.

Finally the silver doors slid softly open. Blindly stepping forward, Tony was caught by surprise when he was poked in the stomach by the barrel of a gun. Looking down at the weapon first, then up at the person holding it, he found himself confronted by a disheveled and wild-eyed Derek Terlizzi.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Gibbs stepped out of the hospital elevator, Ziva's lithe body moving beside him. With long, purposeful strides he headed for Tony's hospital room. They heard the sounds of an argument as they approached the nurses' station, hidden from sight by a large food cart. Hearing Tony's name uttered, their steps quickened. As they passed the cart, Gibbs saw an irate man demanding to know the whereabouts of his brother, Anthony DiNozzo.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't know where he could be," the petite brunette nurse said with an apologetic expression. "Mr. DiNozzo appears to have left the hospital."

"Terlizzi!" Gibbs barked, drawing all eyes.

Taking one look at the pair, Derek grabbed the nurse by one arm and flung her to the ground at Ziva's feet. The Israeli stumbled to the floor, trying to grab the woman while Gibbs continued the chase. Slamming through the stairway doors, Derek ran down at breakneck speed. Not inclined to kill himself, Gibbs followed at a slightly slower pace.

The outer door to the rear parking lot opened with a raucous screech. Gibbs burst out into the sunshine, momentarily blinded by light reflecting off a nearby car. He kept running, barely avoiding slamming into the side of a side of a nearby car. He kept running, barely avoiding slamming into the side of a decorative concrete sphere. Some quick side steps saw him safely around the maze of pseudo art.

Terlizzi hadn't been so lucky. He had tripped over a snake-like curved metal piece, scrambling to his feet and pulling out a gun. He fired wildly at the fast approaching Gibbs.

The NCIS agent hit the ground, waiting until the shots died before jumping back up, his own weapon in his hand. Unfortunately, a group of hospital staff suddenly erupted from the building. Derek disappeared into the crowd and by the time Gibbs made his way through, there was no sign of him. He put his gun away with a frustrated growl.

Ziva finally arrived, two members of hospital security trailing behind her.

"Nice of you to join me, Officer David," Gibbs snapped.

Ziva grimaced. "These _gentlemen_ were reluctant to let me leave. Despite Nurse Falco's statement to the contrary, they were convinced that I caused her injuries."

Gibbs transferred his glare to the blue uniform-clad men, causing the younger one to step back.

"Where is Terlizzi?"

"Gone. DiNozzo?"

"He appears to have disappeared from his hospital room. Nurse Falco is conducting a search." Ziva shrugged. "I think he is gone from the premises. But to where?"

"I'm more concerned in how a man who just had a tube in his chest less than four hours ago and whose clothes were cut off of him managed to just walk out!" Each word got progressively louder.

"I believe I can answer that, Special Agent…" Nurse Falco, her left arm now in a sling, stepped out of the employee exit door. One eyebrow raised, she waited for a name.

"Gibbs. Special Agent Gibbs, ma'am." The change in tone and attitude had all three onlookers in various stages of amazement.

"Special Agent Gibbs, it seems that your man sweet-talked one of my nurses into giving him a set of scrubs."

"Medically is he in any danger?"

The nurse considered the question. "You should really ask his doctor that, but I'm guessing you want an answer now?"

"Yes, ma'am. If you would."

"Special Agent DiNozzo is stitched up and needs to take it easy. He could have another lung collapse, which is why we wanted him to stay here. Especially considering his medical history."

"Thank you, Nurse Falco." Gibbs nodded before stalking back to where he had parked the car, the Israeli two steps behind him. Just as he settled behind the steering wheel, his cell phone rang. "Gibbs."

~NCIS~

Tim McGee sat in the car, the headphones pressing against his ears as he listened to Tony's progress through the multi-floor office. He quickly realized Tony had no intention of looking for his stepbrother, Derek Terlizzi. His partner was going after Frank DiNozzo.

Worried, Tim considered calling Gibbs, but there was little that their boss could do from wherever he and Ziva currently were located. Plus there was the snitch factor. It was a given Gibbs would find out, he always did, but Tony would not be happy if it was Tim who spilled the beans.

However, balanced against the very real threat of Gibbs' anger if he wasn't informed of his senior field agent's actions, there was no contest. The wrath of Gibbs trumped any resentment on Tony's part. As Tim listened to Tony with one ear, he speed-dialed Gibbs' cell phone.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, we've got a situation here."

"What's DiNozzo done?"

"You know he's out of the hospital?"

"Well, yeah, McGee. Since we're at the hospital and he isn't, I kinda guessed he was out."

"Sorry, boss. I didn't realize you were there."

"What's going on?"

Tim quickly relayed the situation to Gibbs, wincing at the growled curse filtering over the phone.

"We're on the way."

Hopefully in time, Tim thought as he returned the phone to his pocket and resumed listening to Tony's confrontation with his father.

~NCIS~

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal son," Derek snarled, his body blocking the elevator door.

"Not up to your usual sartorial splendor, Derek. What happened? Run into a grumpy ex-Marine and Ninja Girl?" Tony stalled, hoping Gibbs and Ziva weren't far behind.

"Shut up! Go to Frank's office." Derek jabbed him again with the gun, coming painfully close to his earlier wound. He stepped forward, forcing Tony to back up.

"I've already been, thank you."

"Oh, yeah? So you've come crawling back to Daddy?"

Tony sighed. "Derek, you just don't get it. I've never wanted anything to do with DiNozzo Industries. I have no interest in replacing you."

"Frank's office. Now!"

Realizing that his stepbrother was near the edge, Tony slowly began walking. A stylishly dressed young woman come hurrying over, a pile of pink slips in one hand.

"Mr. Terlizzi, Mr. DiNozzo has been looking for you. I also have messages…"

Tony gave her credit for not screaming when she saw the gun, although she turned so pale he was afraid she would faint. At first worried about Derek's reaction, he soon realized the man was oblivious.

"Missy, I'll be in meetings for the rest of the day. Hold all my calls, please."

"Uh, uh, of course, uh, sir," she squeaked.

Tony tried to smile reassuringly to Missy, but didn't know how convincing he was. _Tim, I hope you're getting all this._

Tim was. He knew it would be at least twenty minutes before Gibbs and Ziva arrived, leaving any rescue up to him. He checked his gun, then pulled his wallet from his pocket, flipping it over to allow the badge to show.

He made his way to the top floor, finding the women arguing in the corner. "Excuse me, I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS. Where are Terlizzi and Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Oh, thank heavens. They are in Mr. DiNozzo's office. Mr. Terlizzi…he had a gun. I don't understand why he had a gun. He told me to hold all his calls, just as if it was a normal day." Missy was on the verge of tears.

"I believe Missy is confused. I can't imagine that Mr. Terlizzi would bring a weapon into Mr. DiNozzo's office. I don't understand why you would make an accusation like that."

"It's not an accusation, it's true. Betty, I swear to you that it's true. I wouldn't lie about something like that. We need to call the police!"

"That won't be necessary, Miss…Missy. And, ma'am, it's true. Mr. Terlizzi did have a gun. Now, what I need to know from you is how many ways there are to get into Mr. DiNozzo's office."

McGee's seriousness as well as the badge finally convinced both of them of the reality of the situation.

"This door goes directly into Mr. DiNozzo's office. That one leads to Mr. Terlizzi's office. There is a connecting door between the two of them." Betty, the older woman, pointed to the two doors.

"Any other way? I assume that both offices have windows?"

"Yes, Agent McGee, but they are basically sealed. I don't think you could get either of them open."

McGee tried to smile reassuringly as he pulled his gun. "I need you ladies to go downstairs and wait for my partners to arrive." When it looked like they were about to protest, he spoke again. "Please? I could use the help."

"What about the police, Agent McGee?"

"I'd prefer to hold off on that, ma'am. Bringing them in could get Tony or his father killed. Can you make certain that no one comes up here?"

"I can order security to seal this floor off. When your partners arrive, we will unlock the elevator for them."

"Thank you." Tim waited for the two women to leave the office, listening for the soft ding of the elevator before he moved to listen at the elder DiNozzo's door. The thick wood was well set, keeping any noise from seeping out. He reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it very slowly. It was soon evident that the door was locked.

McGee quickly moved to the adjacent office, slipping in as quietly as he could. He quickly scoped out the room, seeing that it was empty, but the adjoining door was opened a crack. Tim made his way across the office, his SigSauer held upright near his face.

The closer he got to the opening, the more he could distinguish the words being said. He smiled as he heard Tony's voice, relieved that his sometime adversarial partner was still alive. He listened closely.

"Derek, you don't honestly expect to come out of this clean."

"You came back, Tony. You said you would never come back, but here you are."

"I'm just here for the conference. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not interested in being a lackey for my father."

"I'm his right hand man. Me! I'm the one doing all the dirty work, I'm the one who is available every hour of the day or night."

"You're well paid for that, Derek. If you were discontent, you knew where the door was. You're easily replaced."

"Father, you're really not helping."

"Easily replaced? The hell I am! You can't afford to get rid of me. I know too much about you."

"Really? Other than the proprietary information pertaining to the corporation, which you are contractually prohibited from revealing, I have no idea what you're referring to."

"You bastard."

"I could've told you that, Derek. C'mon, man, give it up. There's no way you're gonna walk on this. Just walk over here from the connecting door and hand me the .38."

Tim didn't know how Tony knew he was there, whether it was wishful thinking or just a lucky guess. It didn't matter. His partner had told him just what he needed to know, Derek's location and weapon.

Taking a deep breath, Tim burst through the door. "NCIS! Drop the gun!"


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Gibbs found his way blocked by two police cars. Told he couldn't drive any closer to his intended destination, he pulled over and parked half onto the sidewalk. Ignoring Ziva's amused grin, he got out of vehicle and made his way through the police, paramedics, and security personnel milling about the building. Ziva had to move quickly to keep up with the aggravated agent.

Gibbs was stopped before he could step into the building. "NCIS. What's going on here?" He flashed his id.

"NCIS, huh? One of your boys got himself involved in a shooting."

"Who?" Ziva asked, having searched the crowd for McGee without success.

"Don't know. Paramedics are up there now. It's the top floor."

Gibbs and Ziva moved quickly across the marble foyer to the bank of elevators, slipping into the express with a dour man in a dark grey suit. He pointedly ignored them as the elevator rose silently to the executive suite.

The doors slid open with virtually no noise. The stranger pushed past them, heading for the door through which most of the people seemed to be passing. Gibbs followed along, Ziva on his heels.

"Who is in charge here? Why is my client still here?" The man revealed himself as Frank DiNozzo's attorney.

Gibbs scoped out the room, finding a handcuffed Derek Terlizzi sitting in the far left corner being patched up by paramedics. McGee was standing near enough to keep him under observation, yet his real attention appeared to be on his partner who was leaning forward in his chair, his head hanging down. Frank DiNozzo was behind his raised desk, speaking with his attorney.

"McGee, DiNozzo. Report."

Tim McGee waited for Tony to speak, but the older agent never moved. He quickly brought Gibbs up to speed on everything that had occurred since Tony had walked into the hotel suite after fleeing the hospital. "Tony let me know where Terlizzi was and what he was carrying. I came into the room and ordered him to drop his weapon."

Tony spoke at last. "Derek was startled, started to turn around. I took him down."

"Yeah, real hard. I think Tony needs to go back to the hospital." McGee indicated flecks of blood on the other man's shirt. "He might need to be stitched back up again."

"I'm okay."

"Hospital, DiNozzo." Taking pity on the dejected man, Gibbs dropped his hand on Tony's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I promise, if they try and keep you, I'll help you escape."

That earned a weak chuckle. "I just want to get out of here, boss."

Gibbs noticed something else when Tony finally raised his head. There was a glowing red mark on his face. "What happened to you?"

"What?" Tony dropped his head again, a flush welling up to hide the hand-shaped mark.

"His father slapped him, boss. Hard," Tim said.

"Tony, do you want me to…" Ziva began to offer.

"No! No, Ziva, but thanks. He was upset." Tony touched the spot gently.

"Upset about what?"

"Doesn't matter, Gibbs."

"He assaulted a federal officer. He assaulted you. It damn well does matter."

"Tony, tell him or I will." McGee patted his partner on his back before moving to where the paramedics were finishing up on Terlizzi.

"Well, DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled.

"My father wasn't pleased when I insisted on calling the police. He preferred to take care of this all himself."

"Ziva, take DiNozzo back to the hospital."

"Boss," Tony began to whine.

"Hospital. Now."

"Come with me, Tony. Maybe they will give you a lollipop if you are good." Ziva gently helped Tony to his feet.

Once they were gone from the room, Gibbs stalked across the room to where the elder DiNozzo sat.

"And you are?" The attorney asked.

"This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. He is my son's superior."

"My client has no interest in speaking with you."

"He doesn't have to say a word. In fact, all I want him to do is listen." Gibbs leaned down to stare in Frank DiNozzo's face. "You're going down. I don't know how or when, but trust me, it'll happen. That man over there," he pointed to Derek Terlizzi, "tried to kill your son because of you. It's my belief that you had your wife murdered. I'm gonna make certain that you pay for that." He rose to his feet, ignoring the sputtering of the attorney, and walking to where McGee was speaking with FBI Agent Mendez.

"Thanks for coming, Carlos. I want this man booked on attempted murder of a federal officer, two counts."

"Excuse me, I'm Sheriff Roberts. I'm in charge here."

Gibbs and Mendez turned as one to glare at the overweight local sheriff.

"Actually, Sheriff Roberts, assault on a federal officer is a federal offense and as such, falls into the FBI's bailiwick. We'll be taking custody of Mr. Terlizzi. Of course, if you have anything that you would like to add, we will be glad to turn him over to you…after he's faced his federal charges."

Gibbs wasn't surprised to see the Sheriff backing off. He looked at Terlizzi. "You're looking at some hard time. If you might want to see daylight sometime before you're too old to care, consider giving up your boss. I know Agent Mendez will be willing to listen, as will a police commissioner in New York."

"I…" Derek saw how Frank DiNozzo was reacting to having his step-son, his right hand man, under arrest. It was as if he didn't exist. "I'll consider that."

"Good." Gibbs shook Mendez's hand. "Let's go, McGee."

As the two men left the crowded office, McGee cleared his throat. "Boss, will he pay?"

"Frank DiNozzo?"

"Yeah. I mean, he's made Tony's life a living hell for years."

"That ends now. Don't worry about it."

McGee nodded, knowing that Gibbs would protect his agent from retaliation. "Good."


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

Tony DiNozzo was finishing his report on the case the team has just completed, a rash of burglaries at local Navy Federal Credit Unions. The television monitors around the floor were showing ZNN and certain other news channels, although the sound was muted. A familiar face caught Tony's attention. He reached for the remote and turned the volume up enough to hear the reporter's words.

"…in addition to the numerous federal charges, Francisco DiNozzo is also currently under investigation for the death of his wife, Antoinette Paddington DiNozzo. Previously declared a case of drunken driving, it has since been discovered that the late Mrs. DiNozzo had no alcohol in her system."

Tony muted the sound again, unaware that he was under observation by his boss until he felt the calloused hand grip his shoulder.

"Okay, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, boss." Tony glanced at the photograph of his mother currently pinned to the bulletin board behind his desk. He gently touched it, a smile on his face. "I'm getting there."

November 2008


End file.
